Like Juggling Snowballs through Hell
by lightblue-Nymphadora
Summary: The summer after fifth year, Harry's all set to leave Privet Drive. Tonks comes along, and Harry's life is changed forever. AU Humor/crackfic
1. Rescuing You, Of Course

_**LbN: Come one, come all! Step right up to the most cracktastic thing ever attempted by yours truly. I'm warning everyone now, this will quickly devolve into cracky goodness, and will be a case study in HP cliches. Me, respitechristopher, and Chelseyb1010 will be making a team effort of this, goaded on by our awesome friends in the Teacher's Lounge. Another fair warning: flames will be ridiculed mercilessly in subsequent chapters' author's notes. Hope you have a fun ride. I know we will ;).**_

* * *

Harry sat staring at his uncle, not quite believing what he was hearing. "Let me see if I've got this right…" he said. "You _want _me to stay here longer?"

"Yes," Vernon said, sweating. It sounded like he was having trouble forming even simple words. "You write to this…this Dumblewhatsits. You tell him your cousin is sick and that you want to stay another week."

"Fat cha—"

"Don't talk back!" Vernon snapped. "Just…do as you're told."

Harry was so confused that he actually went to get out of his seat. Then an idea hit him. "Okay, Uncle Vernon. But I know you don't really want me here. Who's talked you into this? It can't be Dumbledore."

His uncle turned purple.

"If it was a wizard, you could be in danger. You don't have to say a name. Just tell me if it was a friend—one of my lot that you've seen before."

"Yes," Vernon grunted. "But she said she'd have my... tenders if I told you anything."

"Right," Harry said, thinking hard. "Thank you. I'll go write to Dumbledore now." He strode out of the kitchen, trying to figure out what was happening. Someone wanted to keep him from Dumbledore, but who? It couldn't be a Death Eater. They'd have just attacked him on his way to or from the house. But maybe they had something else…. He shook his head to clear it. He had to make the decision. He got to his room and took out a piece of parchment. Thinking for a moment, he asked Dumbledore for another three nights, instead of a week. "Hedwig," he called, signing the letter. She flew over to his desk and hooted softly. "Please be careful," he said. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was some sort of trap.

She nipped at his fingers affectionately and took off through the open window.

Releasing a worried breath, Harry began to pack his things, just in case.

* * *

He heard the clock beep. It was two in the morning, and someone was in his room. And they sure were making a lot of noise.

"I could've killed you by now, if I could use magic here."

"Tonks?" Harry asked, sitting up. "What are—"

"Listen, Harry, we don't have much time." She tossed some jeans and a shirt at him, not bothering to avert her eyes as he climbed out of bed. "I needed Dumbledore to agree to let you stay, just in case I couldn't get to you tonight."

"But why—"

"Listen! Please, we have to hurry." She stacked his bag and Hedwig's cage on top of his trunk and moved it towards the door. "I'm sure, after your little chat with Dumbledore, that you've realized you're being kept in the dark about certain things."

"I was…but he said he was telling me everything," Harry said slowly.

Tonks snorted. "That figures. There's too much to explain right away, so I'll give you what you need to know right off. I'm taking you to a safe house. Tomorrow, Remus and I will go get Hermione and Ron. Fred and George know about this, but no one else. Not yet at least. Dumbledore's latest plan…well, let's just say we're tired of him expecting the world of you and not giving you any help in the slightest."

Harry's mind was racing. He'd only ever had Dumbledore looking after him—only ever trusted the old man. But after Sirius's death, he'd done a lot of thinking—and Dumbledore's protection had started to feel like a curse. Still…he wasn't sure about this. He pulled out his wand.

"No magic!" Tonks hissed. "The Ministry will be up both our arses."

"What charm did Nymphadora Tonks attempt the first time she came to rescue me from Privet Drive?" Harry asked.

She sighed. "You really should've done that first, but no matter. I'll have you trained in no time. To answer your question, I tried two charms. The first was _scourgify_, and the second was an abysmal attempt to fold your socks."

He lowered his wand. "What do we do now? And if you used magic then—"

"That time, Dumbledore knew we were here. Now that You-Know-Who is out in the open, if anyone even sniffs magic around this place the entire Ministry will be here within a minute. So, downstairs is a portable Apparation point. We're going to carry your things down. I'll send them on to the house, and then we'll scramble out of here before anyone shows up to rescue you from being rescued. Let's get to it." She gave the back of his neck a gentle squeeze.

It only took a few minutes. Harry didn't have too much to move. Once they were downstairs, he paused to look around. He had a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach, and somehow knew that this was the last time he'd see this place.

"Take my arm." Tonks tapped the luggage.

Immediately, there were loud noises outside indicating the arrival of a Ministry team.

"Time to go," Harry said. As soon as he did, he was taken by a feeling of intense tightness. It felt like he was being stretched, or perhaps pushed through a very narrow tube. A second later, his feet were on solid ground again. "Eurgh…."

"Easy," a soothing voice said. "You're safe."

"Remus," Harry groaned. "What the hell is going on?"

"Here, sit," Remus said, guiding him into one of the kitchen chairs. "What's going on, in the briefest sense, is that Dumbledore told us a lot of things. Turns out, telling Tonks and I was the worst choice he could have made."

"Why?" Harry asked warily.

"Because even though we're loyal to him, we're not blinded by that loyalty, as some are," Tonks said, sitting next to him. She put an arm around his shoulders. "We're more concerned about you—getting you through this war. And there are things in motion now that…well, frankly keeping you alive while following Dumbledore's orders is nigh on suicide."

"What did he tell you? What's he keeping from me this time?" Harry asked, beyond aggravated. He'd been promised honesty. Dumbledore had said he'd learned from Sirius's death. And now it turned out that the Headmaster was keeping things from him again? He was tired of being played.

"We'll tell you just one thing, and then you should get some rest. I promise, when Ron and Hermione get here tomorrow, we'll sit down and go over everything. Tonight," he took out his wand, "we need to unbind your magic."

"You need to what my what?"

"When you were small, the Durseleys complained about the magic you were shooting off," Remus explained, motioning for Harry to stand. "Dumbledore bound your magic. He should have taken it off, but he didn't. You've been running on half tank, so to speak, for years."

"WHAT?"

"That was Remus's reaction as well," Tonks said, smirking.

"I've never been able to protect you, Harry," Remus said, moving his wand in a T shape over Harry's body. "Partially because of my condition, but also… I thought you were better off. But then…" he trailed off. He continued the spell quietly for a moment. "I want to help you, Harry. Not trail after Dumbledore, hoping for the greater good. There," he said, smiling. "You're about to feel very tir—"

He didn't even finish the sentence before Harry sank to the floor. "Merlin," Harry whispered.

"Nope," Tonks said cheerfully. "Harry Potter. Free at last."

"I'll help him to bed," Remus said.

"Wait…You said Ron and Hermione…."

"They'll be here tomorrow," Remus said as he half carried, half dragged Harry to one of the rooms. "Easy now." He dumped him into bed as gently as possible.

"Dubble'or's gonna go round the twist when he 'inds ou'…" Harry muttered through a yawn.

"You leave him to us. Get some sleep."

Harry closed his eyes. He was asleep before Remus turned out the light.


	2. No Glasses!

The afternoon sun was bright through his window when Harry awoke, quite hungry, in an unfamiliar room. Next to him was parchment, and on the parchment, in loopy handwriting was a note:

Dear Harry:

We've gone to pick up Ron and Hermione. If you're peckish, there's leftover takeaway in the fridge. Eat up, you're going to need your strength after the unbinding!

Harry had already sussed that much out on his own. Whatever spell Remus (or was it Tonks?) had performed on him had really taken its toll. The next part was a bit more interesting.

Don't worry about safety; this house has been warded by the best wardwrights Gringotts could provide. Looks like you've got some business coming up there, and they want you to be safe. Maybe when you're done there, we can get some shopping done! Or not. Oh well, a girl can dream, can't she? I should go, Remus is glaring at me. Until then,

Sincerely yours,

-Tonks.

Harry thought it was odd that Tonks had dotted the I in "Sincerely" with a heart, but thought nothing more of it as he reached for his glasses.

His glasses.

Harry had read that whole note without his glasses. He looked around the room excitedly. There, on the chair next to the dresser was a Daily Prophet. He could read the date from where he stood, without his glasses. It said 3rd July, 1996.

"Merlin's lacy knickers!" Harry thought to himself. "Was that spell so powerful that I've gone back in time a week? What can I change? What can I do? Will I meet myself here in a week's time? Wait. Holy Shit! I can see! What's next?"

Harry's stomach growled an answer for him, and he decided that the best thing to do would be to eat first and ask temporal theory questions later. He picked up his ratty sweats from the dresser, where someone (he was hoping Remus) had folded them, and put them on. They fit surprisingly well, and he suspected he had Tonks to thank for using a tailoring charm so that he wouldn't trip over the cuffs.

On the kitchen table was a copy of that day's Daily Prophet (9th July, 1996), which allayed Harry's fears of temporal disturbances that cause him to wake up in a multiverse comprised of Snorkacks that whistle Depeche Mode songs. There were also a few slices of bread, and, in the fridge as advertised, left over General Tso's chicken, which was milder than he'd expected.

After devouring a quart of the spicy concoction, Harry got washed up for the day. He hadn't bathed in a few days (Uncle Vernon thought that water was too expensive a commodity to waste on a freak) and thought a good hot shower would do him some good. So he walked into the bathroom, and that's where all hell broke loose. He saw a strange man in the mirror and panicked. Suddenly, the bathroom was filled with a bright blue light which broke the mirror and ricocheted into the shower nozzle, spraying the room liberally with cold water. Harry looked at the sopping bathmat and saw the water begin to run into the corridor. He panicked again, and the water on the floor evaporated, but the spray continued. He looked at the broken shower nozzle, and the spraying stopped.

"Well," Harry thought, "this is interesting." He then looked at the nozzle and it repaired itself.

"Wicked!" he exclaimed to the empty room. Then, as the realization of what he'd done began to grow on him he exclaimed again.

"Oh, shite." Underage magic, two summers in a row. Madam Hopkirk was going to have a field day with him. He was certain to be expelled, and then...

"And then nothing," he said, to no one in particular. "Sod 'em. Sod 'em all. Huh. You know, the thought of being expelled is really quite liberating. As is this talking to one's self thing. Maybe they were right last summer. Maybe I have gone 'round the twist. Ah well. I wonder if there are lemon drops in the cupboard.."

By the time Tonks and Remus returned with Ron and Hermione, Harry had showered, dressed, launched an unsuccessful "Accio Lemon Drop" spell, witnessed his first yellow hail storm, and came to grips with the fact that a couple of things had changed. He wrote a list:

1. That was no strange man in the mirror. My physical appearance became older, harder, and much more muscular overnight. This might appeal to the ladies.

2. I don't seem to need glasses anymore.

3. I can make things happen with my mind. No wand, no spell, just my mind. Wicked.

4. No glasses. Really, this is awesome.

5. I am all out of fucks to give about anyone or anything except the well-being of myself and my friends.

5a. My list of friends does not include a single headmaster.

6. Did I mention the being able to see thing?

7. Shit. That's not hail, is it? Oh well, be careful what you ask for, I suppose...

Needless to say, it was quite the sight that greeted Tonks, Remus, Ron and Hermione when they returned. This new-and-improved Harry was sitting, feet up on the kitchen table, popping a lemon drop into his mouth and playing a quick jig on a set of Cornish bagpipes as his four friends made their way from the doorway into the kitchen.

"That's some wicked piping, Harry. Where'd you learn to play like that?" Ron asked.

"Oh, I got bored waiting for you lot to come back, so I figured I'd pick up a new skill. I also managed to pluck out _Take On Me_ on the Hurdy Gurdy. Fancy a listen?"

"That's impossible, Harry," Hermione remarked as she followed Ron in. "The Hurdy Gurdy is, or rather was a diatonic instrument; one can't simply - oh! Oh my. Harry, you've - what's happened?"

"Oh, you mean the new look?" Harry asked, nonchalantly. "I woke up like this. Figured it suited me. Do you like it?"

"Ugh- buh. Er - Mm-hmm!" Hermione squeaked, blushing. "It's - er. Um - is that... bye!" she continued, and ran out.

"What's got into her?" asked Ron.

"Dunno. Must be her - Oh, hey, Remus, Tonks!"

"Wotcher, Harry," Tonks replied. "You've, er..."

"I believe 'changed' is the word you're looking for, Tonks," Remus assisted.

"Right, changed," the Auror said, her eyes lingering on Harry a bit longer than they normally would. "Changed indeed. This happened last night then? Have you noticed any other effects of the unbinding?"

Harry smiled. "Well, it seems that I'm a bit more in tune with my magic. Don't need a wand or a spell; I just make stuff happen with my mind. Oh, and even better than that, I don't need glasses anymore. I can see! Really!"

"That's great, Harry, but tell us about the magic," Remus answered.

"You're kidding, right? Ten years of those bloody things on my face and you're worried about some spells? I can see, you lot. See! No more fucking glasses!"

There was a muffled protest from the sitting room as Harry began to dance a jig and play _Scotland The Brave_ on the pipes. The protest was ignored, as was Harry's dancing, for a bit. But when he finished, Remus looked at him, gravely.

"That's lovely, Harry, I'm sure. But we need to talk seriously for a moment. Gringotts wants to see you tomorrow. It's about Sirius's will. We heard this from Dumbledore who's going to do everything in his considerable power to stop you from hearing it. This isn't going to be pretty."

Harry laughed. "Oh, don't worry about that, Remus. Tonks here is pretty enough for all of us. What's the plan?"


	3. Of Wills and Wardrobe Changes

The plan, it appeared, was to beat Dumbledore to the chase. Without further ado they set off for Diagon Alley to speak with the goblins and confirm the will reading.

"And what if Dumbledore shows up to try to stop you?" Ron asked, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"I don't much give a flying hippogriff fuck," replied Harry airily.

When they exited the house, they came up on Hermione, who, beyond being rather red in the face, seemed to have gotten over whatever had come up earlier. With a flourish, Tonks summoned the Knight Bus, and in short order, all feeling slightly ill, the group trooped into the Leaky Cauldron.

"I just remembered I, er, promised Mum I'd clear the garden of gnomes today, and she'll have my head if I don't," Ron said suddenly. "Gotta go!" With that he dove for the fireplace, shouting "The Burrow!" in the green flames.

After exchanging confused glances, the remaining quartet collectively shrugged and headed down Diagon Alley, Tonks whistling _Take On Me_ the entire way.

"This must be handled delicately, prongslet," Remus began when they reached the imposing façade of Gringotts. "The goblins are –"

"Don't worry, Remus," Harry interrupted. "I've got this."

Without further ado he marched up to an open counter. "Hello, good sir. I need to speak with Griphook."

"And what business do you have with Griphook?" the goblin asked in a bored tone, not even bothering to look up.

"Tell him it's Harry Potter. He'll know what business."

The goblin's head snapped up. "Why yes, right away, Mr. Potter," he said in a much more respectful tone.

"Who's Griphook?" Tonks asked while they waited.

"An old friend. He took me to my vault the very first time I came here five years ago. Despite the fact that we've had no contact since, I remember him and I'm sure he remembers me. He'll be on our side."

"Indeed," a gravelly voice said, and they spun around to face Griphook the goblin. "This is about tomorrow's will reading for one Sirius Black, is it not?"

"It is," Remus confirmed, stepping forward. "I know for a fact that certain … people are attempting to stop Harry from hearing the will, and, therefore, negating his inheritance. We're here to make sure that doesn't happen."

"Didn't you receive your letters?" Griphook frowned.

Harry shook his head, but it was Hermione that spoke. "Did you say _letters_, in the plural?"

"Yes, Mr. Lupin and Miss Tonks were sent a letter as well. Everyone who is mentioned in a will must attend the reading in order to receive their inheritance."

"I didn't get a letter!" Tonks said indignantly, and Remus concurred.

"Dumbledore," Harry growled. He gave Griphook a firm look. "Griphook, I need to know exactly who is supposed to be here tomorrow."

"Certainly. Harry Potter, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, and Andromeda Tonks," the goblin recited, apparently from memory. "Since you'll already be here, would you like to hear the will of James and Lily Potter as well?"

"WHAT?" all four exclaimed.

"Well, fuck me sideways," Harry swore, not quite hearing what Tonks murmured in response that made Remus hush her. "My parents have a will."

"But of course," Griphook replied. "Your magical guardian took responsibility for it when you were a baby, which is why you've had access to your account thus far, but we've been waiting for you to hear it for yourself."

"Magical guardian? And who in the names of Godric, Helga, Rowena, and Salazar might that be?"

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

"Imagine that," Harry said grimly. "Please schedule a reading of their will for tomorrow, then, immediately following the reading of Sirius's will."

After confirming the details, they left Gringotts, all rather stunned by the depth of Dumbledore's duplicity.

"I just can't believe it," Remus said in a daze. "What else has he kept from us? From you? And what's in their wills that he doesn't want you to know?"

"Oh, we're going to find out," Harry said with relish. "Ol' White Beard is going to wish he never messed with this particular sixteen-year-old wizard."

"What exactly did that unbinding spell do, Remus?" Hermione asked. "I thought it would only make Harry's magic stronger, but he looks different, his eyesight is fixed, he curses like, well, Tonks, and he's so … confident." As Remus began to explain the spell, Hermione eyed Harry with an appreciative glance.

As neither cared about the complexities of magical cores and multicolored auras, Tonks and Harry were left to their own devices while the group aimlessly ambled along Diagon Alley.

"What are we going to do now, Nymphadora?" Harry asked, playing with his newly discovered wandless magic that was apparently both limitless and undetectable, bouncing a conjured ball on the ground without ever touching it.

"Don't _call_ me Nymph-" Tonks began fiercely before pausing, half of her hair fiery red. "On second thought, although I've hated that name with every fiber of my being for all twenty-three years, four weeks, and one day of my existence, it sounds inexplicably wonderful coming from your mouth. Say it again."

"What? Nymphadora?" Harry drew the word out, grinning.

Tonks sighed, and her hair turned a vivid shade of bubblegum pink.

"And now that we've established that … what are we going to do?" Harry repeated.

Her eyes, an unnatural shade of violet, lit up. "Oh can we go shopping? Pretty pretty please? With sugar and a naked Metamorphmagus on top?"

"Only if that's a promise," Harry quipped. "Remus? Hermione?"

Remus shrugged. "Fine by me."

"I'd like to stop by a bookstore," said Hermione.

"Okay, but then I need some new clothes," Harry said, tugging at the double-belted jeans that were Dudley's castoffs. "After four summers of being released into London to go school shopping, I've realized I don't have to wear secondhand clothes that are four sizes too big."

Tonks put her arm around the no longer skinny young man and steered him down the alley. "You've come to the right person, green eyes. I'll have you properly kitted out faster than you can say teenage seduction."

After the obligatory stop at Flourish and Blotts for Hermione, Tonks declared they couldn't possibly find the right attire in Diagon Alley and promptly led them all around muggle London, stopping by obscure thrift stores where all the employees knew her by name (surname, of course). After several hours, Harry was surrounded by bags containing faded band t-shirts, black jeans, Chuck Taylors, and even a pair of his very own combat boots, all picked out with great relish by Tonks while Remus and Hermione watched in amusement.

Two tired teenagers, one worn out werewolf, and an always-animated Auror returned to the house that evening, where with one simple thought Harry returned his bags to their normal size and sent them upstairs to his temporary room.

"How're you getting home, 'Mione?" Harry asked, yawning.

"Since when have you called me Mione?"

"Since Remus called me prongslet."

"Okay. Well, I'm staying with you for the rest of the summer. I don't really spend that much time with my parents."

Remus stood and cleared his throat, and the others waited expectantly. "Harry, there's something I would like to ask you. I want you to know that I will in no way be offended if you decline." Harry indicated for him to continue. "Sirius told me to do this if anything ever happened to him, and for all I know it may be in his will. Regardless, I wonder if you'd consider letting me be your new godfather."

"Bit soon, isn't it, considering my godfather died less than a month ago?" Harry replied. "And to be honest, do I even really need a godfather? I'll be of age in a year, and it's not like Sirius ever had much opportunity to act as a guardian beyond signing my Hogsmeade permission slip."

"Oh, well, uh –" Remus stuttered, flustered.

"I'm just taking the piss, mate!" Harry interrupted with a large grin. "I'd be honored."

"Thanks, prongslet," Remus said, and the two embraced.

"Celebratory kisses all around?" Tonks offered, glancing from Harry to Remus with a saucy grin.

"As nice as that would be, I think we need to prepare for the reading tomorrow," Harry said. "And don't you need to make sure your mum will be there?"

"Right. S'pose I'll go see her and blagg some food while I'm at it. Remus, I leave you as chaperone. See you and the goblins tomorrow!"


	4. The Reading of the Wills

**Like Juggling Snowballs through Hell**

Everyone was up early the next morning. Harry grinned as he came into the kitchen, seeing three new arrivals.

"Not a word, you specky git," George said, pointing a spatula at him. He was currently stationed at the stove, sporting a fluffy pink apron that Fred swore belonged to Remus.

"I'm not wearing glasses anymore, if you haven't noticed!" Harry said, taking a plate.

"Yeah, yeah…. Just go eat your breakfast."

Harry turned towards the table and noticed that all of the girls (now including Ginny) were staring at him. "What's up with you lot?"

"You…er…you look good," Hermione said.

"Well done," Ginny told Tonks.

"How am I supposed to fight Voldipants with you all ogling me?" Harry whinged as he sat down to eat.

"Everyone calm down," Remus said, refilling their glasses. "We have a long day ahead of us."

"George, Ginny and I are going to stay here and make sure no one comes snooping," Fred explained to Harry. "Ron's at home trying to keep Mum off our trail. She's still convinced that Dumbledore is god's gift to the Wizarding community."

"Wait, you sent Ron to do that?" Hermione asked.

"Better than dealing with him here," Fred said.

"What about your Dad?" Harry asked.

"Dad's starting to have questions about Dumbledore's methods," George said. "Shouldn't be long before he's on your side, Harry."

"Remus," Tonks said. "Did you find out any more about those tracking rituals?"

"We did!" Fred and George said with identical evil grins.

"No," Remus said. "You found an entirely different type of ritual. One that, if I recall correctly, needed a virgin sacrifice."

"Couldn't do it anyway then, mate," Fred said. "I'm not up for killing family members, and Percy and Ginny are the only virgins left in the group."

Ginny snorted into her glass of pumpkin juice, and Tonks started eating at lightning speed.

"Something you need to tell us, Nymphadora?" George asked.

"She can tell you later," Harry said, checking his watch. He made a mental note to ask Tonks for that memory. "We need to get going."

* * *

Harry had been polyjuiced to look like Tonks—which is to say, he'd been polyjuiced to change his appearance at random.

"I didn't know it could do this!" he said happily.

Hermione hit him with a thin book. "Stop it, before you get stuck like that."

They made their way to Gringotts and were greeted by Tonks's mother. Griphook let them down to the underground meeting room, which was brilliantly lit by a massive chandelier. In the middle of the oblong table there was a fountain spouting sparkling wine. Harry reached for a glass….

"HAVE YOU LOST YOUR SENSES, BOY?"

"Merciful Morgan le Fey!" Harry yelped, jumping back into Tonks. She caught him, and the result was that she was now cradling him like a large baby. He climbed down and turned to glare at the man who'd shocked him. "Do you have to lurk in corners, Moody?"

"Death Eaters going to come at you in broad daylight, Potter?" Moody growled. "Consider that the start of your training. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he yelled, making everyone jump again. "What are you thinking—taking an unknown drink before legal documents are read? And when you know that someone's trying to keep you from hearing them as well? You're thicker than the new Ministry approved cauldron bottoms, lad."

"So you're in this as well?"

"Aye. Won't be joining your slumber parties at the safe house, though. I have better things to do…like scratch my balls."

Hermione looked ready to throw up at this particular image.

"Why's Granger here?" Moody asked with a lopsided smile.

"Like I'm going to do anything without the witch who knows everything…." Harry muttered.

"Now that everyone is present," Griphook said.

"STOP!" a voice bellowed.

"Oh, for…." Tonks huffed, standing and raising her wand.

Dumbledore strode into the room and cast a dark look around. "Harry, I must insist that you come with me."

"No," Harry said, calmly putting his feet up on the table.

"Harry," Dumbledore said sternly. "You're not ready for this. I really think—"

"I don't give three Quidditch playing fucks what you think I'm ready for." He stood up and faced the headmaster. "You bound my magic. You've kept me in the dark while putting me in life threatening danger year after year. And now you're trying to keep me from what's mine? You can go…."

The rest of the party, including Griphook, blushed at the colorful description of various body parts of hippogriffs, Minotaurs, and the Giant Squid.

"Leave," Harry told Dumbledore.

"No, Harry. I'm simply looking out for your—" He was unable to finish the sentence, as Harry blasted him out of the room and locked the door using his new-found mind powers.

"My apologies for the interruption, Griphook," he said, dusting off his shirt. "Please, continue."

"Indeed," the goblin said, pulling out a few sheets of parchment. "The last will and testament of one Sirius Orion Black the third. To my dearest cousin, Andromeda Tonks, I leave my Gryffindor banner and childhood diary, in hopes that it will remind her of the time we spent as children rebelling against our family. To my cousin, Nymphadora Tonks, I leave my books on stealth and tracking, knowing that she has learned from experience and will help Harry. To my partner in crime, Remus Lupin, I leave my collection of Muggle porn. I hope he will find it both entertaining and instructive. I also leave my Pensieve and memories to him, and beg him to filter out the naughty bits before Harry finds them." The various items went floating to their owners, all of whom were snickering at Remus's gift. Griphook took a sip of water and cleared his throat. "To my godson, Harry James Potter, I leave the rest of my worldly possessions, including my house, my fortune, and my motorbike if Hagrid hasn't destroyed it."

Harry smiled over at Hermione. Knowing Hagrid, all that was left of the motorbike were probably the handle bars.

"And now, onto the joint will and testament of James and Li—"

There was a loud _Bang! _as the door burst off its hinges. Dumbledore walked back in, looking angry. He silently took a seat at the end of the table. Every so often, he'd throw a curious look at Harry, who ignored him completely.

"James and Lily Potter," Griphook said through clenched teeth. "To our son, Harry, we leave all of our worldly possessions, including our fortune and our home, Gryffindor Sound."

A set of keys floated over to Harry, and turned into a light that enveloped his wand. It went out after a moment, and he looked over at Dumbledore. "I'm going to ask you one question, and you should know that I value honesty highly."

"Ask your question, Harry," Dumbledore said, calmly.

"You told me my parents' house was destroyed. I believe that was the truth, but it wasn't the whole truth. Was it?"

"I told you what you needed to—"

"Here's my theory," Harry said, standing and pacing. "These keys aren't to some abandoned ruins in Godric's Hollow. I think they're to an actual house that you neglected to tell me about. I think the house at Godric's Hollow was just a safe house while my parents were under…er…protection. Sounding right, _Headmaster_?" He said the last word in much the same way people say "cockroach" or "crotch lice".

Dumbledore only nodded.

"Thought so," Harry growled. He heard Moody chuckle from the corner. "Anything else, Griphook?"

"One last bit. Your parents also left you a creature. The details aren't here, but its name and caretaker are given. The creature's name is Eire. Its caretaker is one Gumptious R. Finney. You'll find his address here. You're all dismissed."

There was a lot of wand waving as the various recipients sent their things home. During that time, Harry kept his eyes trained on Dumbledore. Finally, once everyone was finished, the old man left and Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

Hermione squeezed his shoulder. "We should probably find this Finney person before Dumbledore tries to take whatever creature Harry just inherited."

"Just what I was thinking, Granger," Moody said with an approving nod.

"Actually, that might not be necessary," Tonks said, throwing an arm around Harry's shoulders. She seemed to have grown a bit, because Harry was now in very close contact with side-boob.

"You…er…know this bloke," he stammered.

"I've only met him once, at our graduation ceremony. He was there to see Charlie Weasley."

"Charlie?"

"Yep. He retired a few years ago, and Charlie took over his business in Romania."

"Wait…that means…."

"Pretty sure your parents left you a dragon."


	5. Lord Baron Potter Black

Harry, for his part, was by this time quite confused. He'd inherited a house - no, two houses. He supposed he'd inherited more Galleons than anyone really ought to have a right to have. And, apparently, he'd inherited a bloody dragon, which, given his experience with the Hungarian Horntail a year and a half prior, he found less than a perfect gift for the boy-who-now-has-everything. Nevertheless, he felt he needed to take stock of his new possessions and find out exactly how much he did own.

"Griphook," Harry said, after a moment or two of uncomfortable silence that had his friends looking at him expectantly, waiting to visit the new Casa Harry, "I'm confused. This is all quite a lot. Is there someone with whom I can sit and discuss the ramifications of my inheritances?"

"That would be wise, Lord-Baron Potter-Black," Griphook replied. "Please allow me to find someone who can - "

"Excuse me?" Harry interrupted. "What did you just call me?"

"Terribly sorry, your Lordship. I had no right to simply call you by your titles. I'll-"

"My- my titles? How did I get those titles?" Harry was quite perplexed. Hermione, however, already had her hand up to answer the question."

"It's quite simple, actually, your Lordship," she stammered. "Under ancient Wizarding law, titles are bound to properties. So, once you acquired 12 Grimmauld Place, you became Lord Black. And once you inherited Gryffindor Sound, you became Baron Potter. Your full title therefore is Lord-Baron Harry James Potter-Black. Unless you'd rather it be Black-Potter, I suppose. But seeing as you were born Potter, I'd assume that - "

"Alright, I get it." Harry sighed. "But if you call me anything other than Harry again, Hermione, I'll start claiming my feudal right of Prima Notte - with Ron."

"Ooh! Can I watch?" asked a beaming Tonks, as Hermione blushed.

"No you may not," answered Harry. He turned back to Griphook. "That goes for you, too. Please, call me Harry. Everyone, in fact. I didn't ask for these titles, they came to me because the people I loved died around me, and I will not be addressed with them."

Griphook was shell-shocked. He mumbled a few words in Gobbledygook and then solemnly walked over to a bell hanging on a wall and rang it. Hermione let out an audible gasp.

"What's going on?" Harry asked her.

"It's the Bell of Gringotts. When you, as a Lord-Baron, asked Griphook to address you by your first name, you invoked a treaty made between Human Wizards and Goblins over eight centuries ago. Goblins generally hold Wizards in a barely-disguised contempt, and Wizards tend to think even less of Goblins. But with your gesture, you've presented yourself as an ambassador to Goblin-kind. The last Lord-Baron to do this was Arcturus Gryffindor in 1529. Muggle history books gloss over this, but consequences of Arcturus's actions was a leading factor in the Anglican reformation. Harry, this is quite an honor."

"How do you know all this?" Harry asked, quite stunned.

"Well," Hermione replied, blushing again, "it's amazing what a few dozen Pepper-Up Potions before History of Magic will do for one's knowledge of Goblin History. Plus, it's all in-"

"Hogwarts, A History?" Harry snarked.

"No, Lord-Baron Smartass. It's in the small print on the back of the carbon copies you get with your account application. Have you really never read them? It's important to know what one is signing. What?" Hermione asked, as the assembled were looking at her as if she'd grown a second head. "Have _none _of you read that? Honestly!"

There was another awkward moment of silence as Hermione carefully studied the tops of her shoes. A moment later, the door to the conference room burst open, and a rather regally-garbed goblin strode in through a back door, unceremoniously pushing aside Griphook and clearing his throat to grab the attention of the room.

"I am Kahkhblok, Chief Goblin of Gringotts. What I have to say is for Ambassador Lord-Baron Harry James Potter-Black's ears, only. All others will leave or suffer consequences."

"Er, excuse me - er- How do you say your name again?" Harry asked.

"Kahkblok," the goblin replied.

"Ooh, one more time?"

"Yes, of course, Harry. It's Kahk. Blok."

"Right, well, how 'bout I just call you 'Sir.' Anyway, these are my friends, and anything you need to say to me can be said in front of them."

"Are they, Harry?" Kahkblok asked, probingly.

"Well, I just met Mrs. Tonks today, and Moody I would have known for much longer, except I was taught by someone pretending to be him instead. So they can probably leave."

Andromeda curtsied toward Harry and walked out the door.

"Er, Constant Vigilance, your Lordship," Moody said as he followed Andromeda out.

"Right. Remus, Hermione and Tonks can certainly stay. Remus has been a friend of the Potters since well before I was born, Hermione's one of my oldest friends in the world, and Tonks, well, Jesus, man, just look at her."

"Quite," Kahkblok replied. "Then we may proceed. As it stands, Harry, you are Lord Black and Baron Potter. If you will please take this dagger and produce a drop of blood onto this parchment, we can see if there are other Ancient Houses to which you have claim."

Harry took the knife and did as he was asked. When the drop of blood hit the parchment on the table, there was a blinding light that knocked Harry and Kahkblok to the floor. As they recovered, Kahkblok grumbled a low "Hmm..." and stroked his substantial beard.

"Very unusual, Harry," Kahkblok said. "But then again, I suspect the unusual is quite the norm for you."

"Too true," Harry replied. "Now, what does all this mean?"

"Well, it seems that in addition to the Houses of Potter and Black, you are also Heir to Gryffindor, Baronet of Peverell, Noble of Chudley, and, like all Wizards, are a direct descendant of Merlin. You control no fewer than five seats on the Wizengamot, and are truly the single most hereditarily and therefore politically powerful wizard in Britain."

Remus let out a gasp. Tonks squealed a little bit and kissed Harry on the cheek. Hermione sobbed quietly to herself.

"Hermione, this is happy news. What's wrong?" Harry asked.

"It's just - it's just that for so long, you lived in that cupboard, when you're nearly royalty. Harry, you've been treated beastly, and handled it with such grace. I'm absolutely sick about it for you."

Harry put a tender arm around his friend and kissed the top of her head.

"But I am where I am now because I've had friends like you and Ron, and that's what matters. Well, that and making sure I live to see my 18th birthday. Now, Kakh - er, sir, what about the other properties? Did I inherit any stocks or anything?"

"Yes Harry, you also have significant, if not majority positions in Gladrags Wizardwear, Ltd., and several Muggle concerns. Would you like to see a list?"

Harry took a look at the list of Muggle companies in which he owned significant numbers of shares. And there, halfway down the list, was his 33% ownership of Grunnings Machinegesellschaft, GmbH. His eyes lit up.

"Sir, does this firm here - the German one - does it have a factory in Surrey?"

"As a matter of fact, it does," Kakhblok replied, a bit anxious at the glee forming in the extraordinarily powerful wizard's eyes.

"And does that 33% ownership come with anything - a seat on the board or something?"

"Not as such, Harry, but if you'd like, we can certainly secure that for you at the next Annual Meeting."

"That would be great. What else?"

"Well, Harry, the seat of Noble of Chudley includes a majority position in Chudley Cannons Quidditch Club. You also have - "

"Wait, I own the Cannons? Wicked!" And suddenly the color of Harry's robes turned to a bright tangerine. Tonks changed the color of her hair to match. "Anything else?"

"Just the usual treasure chests full of gold trinkets and jewels - 24 large, 78 medium and three small - and the liquid assets, which total seven billion, one hundred forty-nine million, nine hundred fifty thousand, three hundred forty seven Galleons, nine Sickles and 17 Knuts. And the interest generated since we've been standing here gives you an extra 750 Galleons."

"Wicked!" Harry exclaimed again. Tonks nearly fainted away, Remus began muttering to himself, and Hermione began to convert that figure to pounds, which gave her a headache.

"Quite," Kakhblok replied. "You may want to consider retaining a firm to manage these assets for you. They can also look through your account history to ensure nothing untoward has happened since the previous Lord Black and Baron Potter's deaths."

"Can't Gringotts do that for me?" Harry asked. "I mean, who's been doing that all this time?"

"Traditionally a Wizard would rather turn his Galleons to ash than have Goblins manage his assets, so there are many Wizarding firms who do just that. The better ones, of course, will put their clients' assets under a mattress. But, as you are the Ambassador, I see no reason why we cannot manage your funds for you. Who knows, we might be able to make you a sickle or two."

"That's nearly 36 billion pounds!" Hermione exclaimed."Jesus, Harry, you're worth more than the Queen!"

"Well, I should be able to get Chudley to the top of the table, then, don't you think?"

"You could get Torquay United to the top of the table with that kind of dosh, and have something left over for Stevenage," Tonks replied. "You're loaded, mate."

Harry smiled."I suppose I am. Now, shall we get to that new house of mine? I hear I have a dragon."


	6. I Want to Ride Him So Bad

"Before you leave, Harry, I should inform you the will notes that the house is heavily warded, but they should automatically recognize your Potter blood." Kakhblok cast an eye at Remus, Tonks, and Hermione. "I cannot say the same for your companions."

"If I can get in, then I can bring whomever I want in." Harry was dying to see his ancestral home. "I do have one question, though: how the hell did my parents end up with a dragon?"

"That, I cannot say," the goblin replied. "However, Mr. Potter, if there is anything else I can do for you in the future, please do not hesitate. Otherwise, I'll see you in a month for our finance meeting."

"Wow, Harry," Hermione said as they left the bank. "Do you have any idea what you've done in regards to your relationship with the goblins? Imagine if all wizards followed your example. And not only with goblins, but house-elves, centaurs, merpeople …"

In a particularly tolerant mood, half due to his newfound wealth and independence, half due to Tonks's form-fitting jeans, Harry let Hermione exhaust herself on the topic of wizard and creature relations (of the platonic nature). When she finally stopped to take a breath, he turned to Remus.

"Remus, did you know about any of this? Gryffindor Sound, this bloody dragon …?"

"No, prongslet, I'm as gobsmacked as you. Admittedly I never visited the Potters' house when we were at Hogwarts, but Sirius never mentioned a dragon. And James and Lily's house in Godric's Hollow, the one you lived in, was nothing special." Remus smiled reminiscently. "I take that back. They hadn't been there a day before your mother had that place feeling more welcoming than any other home I've ever been in."

"Hmm." Harry pondered this. How had one of his closest friends not known Harry's father's background? He added that to his growing list of unanswered questions but let the topic drop as they prepared for side-along apparition.

When they arrived, Harry gaped at the view in front of him. "Merlin and Morgana's secret love affair, can you believe this?"

A massive house was laid out directly before them, beautifully crafted out of stone. Elaborate landscaping, impossibly green and surprisingly maintained, surrounded the property, and – Harry grinned in excitement – Quidditch goal hoops could just be made out rising behind the house. To the west a long stretch of water shimmered in the sunlight.

"What do you reckon?" Harry addressed his companions. When they didn't respond, he turned around. "Um, hello?"

Tonks gave him a sheepish smile. "Sorry, sweet cheeks, apparently I've Apparated us to the wrong place. Come here and we'll try again."

"Wrong place? What are you on about? It's perfect!"

"Well, yes, it's a lovely area, but we're looking for a house, Harry," Hermione explained in a puzzled tone.

"And it's right there!" Harry exclaimed, pointing. "Massive house? Quidditch hoops? Two stone griffins guarding the front door? A loch or something over there? _Quidditch hoops?_ You can't see any of that?" Three blank stares met his gaze.

"Blimey," Tonks finally said. "If you can see the house and we can't … those are some bloody impressive wards."

"Right. Well. The fact is, I _can_ see the house, so I'm going. I'll come back for you."

With that Harry strode off, ignoring their protests. Their demands for him to return cut off abruptly after a few meters, and he assumed he was now inside the wards. Which meant they probably couldn't see him anymore. Interesting.

Harry gazed at the formidable wooden door, wondering if he should use the brass lion's head knocker. One didn't normally knock on one's own house, but at the same time he'd never stepped foot on this property. But who did he expect to answer?

Rolling his eyes at his own internal monologue, Harry went for it, opening the door. An immediate CRACK nearly made him jump out of his pants. A good thing Tonks and Hermione weren't around. Or was it?

"Master James?" A squeaky voice, full of wonder, sounded from somewhere around his knees, and Harry looked down into a pair of wide brown eyes.

"Winky?"

"I is not Winky, sir. I is Millie." She tilted her head. "You is not Master James."

"No, I'm Harry." She blinked. "James's son?" She blinked again. "James and Lily's son Harry?" She continued to stare, and Harry wondered if all house-elves had a certain peculiarity. At least she didn't give him a murderous glare like Kreacher.

He decided to try something else. "Er, how do I let down the wards? I've brought some friends with me, but they can't even see the house. Is it some sort of Fidelius Charm?"

She raised one hand, snapping her fingers without speaking a word. Having seen Dobby do the same thing, Harry assumed she'd temporarily lifted the wards. He edged his way out of the door to greet his friends, not at all sure how to deal with Millie.

They headed toward him with matching open-mouthed gazes of awe.

Harry quickly tugged Hermione's elbow. "Mione, I have to tell you something, but you have to promise not to flip." She nodded absently. "I have a house-elf."

"Then technically you have two," Remus interjected. "Don't forget about Kreacher."

"As much as I'd like to …" Harry muttered.

"I suppose you can't help what you inherit," Hermione said reluctantly. She brightened. "You could set her free! I still have some hats I knitted somewhere …"

"Yeah, I'll clean this house all by myself," he murmured under his breath, giving Hermione a fake smile when she raised her eyebrows in question. "That's an idea!"

"Don't be such a – shite!" Tonks jumped back from one of the griffin statues that had snapped at her when she tried to touch it.

"Didn't your mother teach you to look without touching?" Remus teased.

The Auror sent him a dark look and muttered a suggestion as to what her mother could teach him as they entered the house, coming to a stop at the still-frozen house-elf.

"Er, this is my house-elf, Millie," Harry announced.

"I think you broke it," Tonks observed.

"Her," Hermione corrected.

"How do you know?" Tonks asked interestedly.

Whatever Hermione was going to say was cut off when Millie burst into tears, throwing herself at Harry's legs with a gale-like force belied by her tiny stature.

"Definitely broke her."

"Millie … Millie, please, calm down." Harry finally succeeded in prying the house-elf off his legs, but she continued taking great choking breaths.

Remus knelt in front of her, pulling a bar of chocolate out of his pocket and breaking off a small piece. "Have some of this." Noticing the eyes on him when he stood, he patted his breast pocket. "Always have a bar on me. Good for more than just Dementor encounters, you know. Great calming properties."

"Millie is ashamed, Master Harry, sir," the tiny house-elf said in a high-pitched voice, much calmer. "Millie has not seen a Potter in so many years, Master Harry, sir." She gazed at him with adoration, displaying an uncanny resemblance to Dobby. "Is Master Harry come home to stay?"

"Yes," Harry answered firmly. No more Dursleys for him; Dumbledore could bugger off. "Have you been taking care of this place by yourself, Millie?"

"Oh no, Master Harry, sir. There is five of us."

"Well done anyway, Millie." She beamed. "So, since you've been serving the Potters for so long, do you know who Eire is?"

"Oh, yes, Master Harry, sir. Mister Finney takes care of Eire."

Harry decided to get it over with. "Are Finney and, erm, Eire nearby? Could they come here, or could you take me – us – to them?"

Millie, now eager to fulfill her duties with a real Potter, informed Harry that the dragon was in fact just on the other side of the sound. While she went on that errand, the quartet explored the estate. The amount of rooms was staggering, each decorated with a different theme, and Harry soon realized he had plenty of room for all of his friends should the occasion arise. Despite the fact that no one had lived there in at least sixteen years, it was in spotless condition. Remus and Hermione had to be pried away from the well-stocked library, and neither were too happy when Harry and Tonks were just as entranced by the locker room next to the full-size Quidditch pitch, full of state of the art brooms.

They emerged from the locker room to find the sun blocked by an enormous shadow. They looked up. And up. And up.

"Dear God," murmured Remus.

"Oh my goodness," Hermione whispered.

"Merlin's testes," Harry said.

"Holy shit," blurted Tonks.

This dragon put the Hungarian Horntail to shame. Covered with shiny dark green scales, two vicious-looking, incredibly long, golden horns rose straight out of its head. The tip of its tail flicked slightly on the grass, and then Harry swore the dragon looked right at him, tilting its head and snorting.

"'ello there!"

The four of them jumped as a stocky man bounded out from between the dragon's forearms.

"You must be Lord Potter," the man exclaimed, seizing Harry's hand in a powerful and enthusiastic grip.

"Just Harry, please."

"Whatever you say, m'lord. Gumptious R. Finney, Junior, at your service, sir." Grinning broadly, he followed their eyes, still glued to the dragon. "Aye, he's a beaut, innit? Name's Eire. Fully grown Romanian Longhorn. Raised 'im meself from a wee egg, an' he's nigh on fifty feet now."

"How – why –" Harry stammered, clearing his throat. "Why does the Potter family have a dragon?"

"Can't say, m'lord. A Potter saved a Finney during the Crusades, an' the Finney family 'as been serving the Potters since. When 'is dragon Falcor died, me dad left for Romania an' gave the reins to me, as it were. One dragon, one keeper, the way it is, innit? But listen to me ramble on. Reckon you want to get acquainted, eh?" He cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed, "EIRE! C'mere, you great ruddy beast!"

The dragon dropped his huge head to their level, one multi-faceted eye swirling as he regarded Harry.

"Your 'and, m'lord." Finney yanked Harry's unwilling arm forward, palm extended. He waved his wand, and Harry flinched as a small gash was opened. "Sorry, but he's bred to recognize Potter blood. Give 'im a sniff an' he's all yours."

_Just what I always wanted_, Harry thought, not daring to move a muscle as the dragon sniffed his palm curiously. It tickled, but he wasn't about to show fear. Harry was highly grateful this particular dragon wasn't guarding a nest of eggs.

When Eire pulled his head away, apparently satisfied, all but Finney breathed a sigh of relief. The dragonkeeper grinned, slapping Harry on the back. "There you go. Reckon you'd like to ride 'im. EIRE! Down!"

Ignoring Harry's frantic protests, Finney pulled him forward as the dragon dropped to one knee. A boost and suddenly Harry was on top of a dragon, nestled at the base of the neck. With one immense downsweep of his wings and a push of his muscular legs, Eire took off into the air, his terrified master clinging to his neck.

Once Harry realized he wasn't going to plummet to the ground and Eire wasn't going to eat him, he cautiously sat up. The four figures on the ground shrunk to miniatures, and he gazed at the breathtaking scenery around him. This wasn't terrifying.

This was awesome.

Back on the ground, his three companions watched with a combination of fear and awe.

"Oh my God oh my God oh my God," Hermione whispered.

"Brilliant," Tonks breathed.

"Are Potters natural at flying everything?" Remus mused.

"I want to ride him so bad," Tonks said.

"Never in a million years," Hermione disagreed.

"All night long …"

"You're mental."

"Can't you see how gorgeous he is?"

"Well, he _is_ a very lovely shade of green, so nice and shiny."

"Huh?" Tonks said. "Oh yeah, the dragon is pretty cool, too."

When Harry landed, he slid off the dragon like he'd done it a million years, patting his leg affectionately as he did. He grinned at his friends, wondering why Hermione was flushed. "This is amazing," he enthused. "The house, Millie, Eire – I can't believe I never knew it existed." His expression hardened. "It's been kept secret for years, even from my dad's closest friends. Which leaves me with two questions – why was I never told about this, and why the hell didn't my parents simply hide here?"


	7. Ideas, Questions and Teddy Bears

_**LbN: Lots of hugs and cookies to all who have left such sweet reviews. Also, credit for the previous chapter goes to Chelseyb1010. That was her comedic genius shining through. She writes fantastic stories, so you should all go check out her profile! Hope you enjoy the chapter!**_

* * *

The group of house-elves was the coolest bunch Harry had ever met, once he got past the whole "hero worship" thing. Millie, Vanillie, Tillie, Willie, and Clyde set about making lunch as Harry and the rest vacated to one of the (seven) lounges on the first floor.

Harry paced back and forth, thinking. "Okay," he said. "First things first. Hermione, I need your eidetic memory. Have you ever heard of a family owning a dragon? I thought they were untrainable."

"No, I haven't heard of it. And they're supposed to be untrainable, but I've never heard of this breed before. Ron may have—Charlie talks to him about dragons all the time."

"We'll get him over here later. Actually, let's bring everyone over. The safe house is getting a bit cramped." He paused, getting a faraway look on his face.

"Prongslet?" Remus asked. "Are you alright?"

"Oh no," Hermione said. "He's either having a vision of Voldemort, or getting one of his colossally bad ideas that I'll have to talk him out of."

"Er…Clyde?" Harry called. The elf appeared at his side a couple seconds later. "How many rooms does this place have?"

"196, Master Harry."

"Thank you, Clyde. Hermione, what if…what if we had school here?"

"What?"

"What?"

"What?"

"Not for everyone," Harry explained. "Just the DA. Hogwarts isn't preparing us for what's out there—and don't say it was just Umbridge. It's not. What if we had school here? Or at least Defense lessons."

"And how exactly are we going to just waltz out of school once every other day for Defense lessons, Harry?" she asked.

"Hell if I know. Tonks," he said, changing subjects at the speed of sound. "You and Moody said you'd be training me this summer?"

"Probably talking about different types of training," Remus muttered.

"Huh?"

"Nothing, prongslet…."

"Moody's…on call, so to speak. We can start as soon as you're ready," Tonks said, giving Remus a Look.

"Tomorrow then. ARGH!" He crumpled to his knees a blinding pain shot through his scar.

"_It seems the Potter boy has found another place to hide. Another place that is so well warded, it is beyond my sight. Tell me, how can there be so many holes for him to hide in? Ah, Bellatrix…it seems your delicious niece is with him."_

"Shut up and stop perving on Tonks, you snake-faced nutter!" Harry bellowed.

"_Potter! Can you hear me?"_

"Yes! It works both ways, idiot!"

"_Blast! Bellatrix, put your clothes on!"_

"THE ACTUAL FUCK? I can't see what's going on—thank Merlin."

"Harry, block him out," Tonks said gently. "Think of something you know would gross him out, and use it to push him out of your mind."

"Like that time Ron, Seamus and I got drunk off Firewhiskey and danced to Prince songs in banana hammocks?" Harry suggested through gritted teeth. He heard a high pitched scream in his mind and grinned. The pain subsiding, he looked up to see the other three looking quite pale. "It didn't actually happen, but it got the bastard out."

"On that note," Remus said, "I think lunch is ready."

"Wait… Voldemort was perving on me?" Tonks yelped, a few minutes too late.

"Lunch, Tonks…."

* * *

By 9 o'clock that evening, everyone was settled in. Fred, George, Ginny and Ron had all come over from the safe house. George managed to find a room that had a slide connecting it to the room below, and quickly claimed it for himself and Fred. Ginny was helping Hermione and Ron look up information on dragons. Hermione had been banished to the library earlier after getting into S.P.E.W. rhetoric with one of the elves.

"But Harry is a wonderful wizard! I'm sure he'd pay you if—"

"House-elves is not paid, Miss," Clyde said, affronted. "Does Miss accept payment for being Master Harry's companion? For helping him in his missions?"

"Er…no…."

"Then neither shall we. If Miss will excuse Clyde, he has a soufflé in the oven."

Remus and Tonks sat with Harry at the bar (fully stocked with Muggle and wizard alcohol) and talked over Harry's most pressing questions. All had drinks, but Remus insisted Harry drink a Butterbeer, rather than the Hobgoblin Piss Vodka. Every once in a while, the ground rumbled as Eire landed or shuffled along the loch outside.

"I can't see my parents sitting back and taking orders from Dumbledore just for the hell of it," he said. "Giving up their house…not unless there was a damn good reason. Sirius didn't want to. You guys aren't. How'd he get them to leave? And why didn't anyone know about this place?"

"Maybe he told them this place was compromised?" Tonks suggested.

"This place? I doubt they would've believed that," Remus said.

"Fuck it," Harry stated, downing his Butterbeer. "I'll just ask him."

"You're going to…ask…Dumbledore?" Tonks asked.

"Yep. I'll just draw my own conclusions from the gray areas of what he tells me. Anyway…we should probably turn in. Training tomorrow and all that."

"I can tuck you in, if you want," Tonks said, winking.

"Oi, if you two horny bastards are shagging, I get to watch!" Ginny called from the across the hall.

"Fuck watching, you're participating," Tonks corrected.

"IS THERE SOMETHING YOU NEED TO TELL US, TONKS?" the twins bellowed from the Weasley Mischief Apartments (they'd insisted on naming the rooms).

"No one is shagging!" Remus said. "Harry needs his rest. We all do. Moody's going to expect everyone to train, not just Harry. Let's all get some sleep."

Harry stood, grinning. "Goodnight, then," he said.

* * *

_Voldemort was glaring at him, but Harry refused to look away. _

"_Potter."_

"_Voldy."_

"_I will not be addressed in such a way!" Voldemort hissed. "I am the Dark Lord—"_

"_Is there a reason you're invading my dreams? And does Bellatrix have her clothes on? Because this time I _can_ see you."_

"_Lestrange is not here! _

"_How long have you been tapping that? Explains why she went clown shit insane."_

"_I…we…that's none of your business, Potter! I did not invade your mind to answer your inane questions! Now, listen—"_

"_Never pegged you as a modern Art Deco fan. Always figured you'd be like a low class version of the Malfoys, all Gothic and shit."_

"_I am higher class than Lucius could ever dream to be! And watch your filthy language, half breed!"_

"_Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck!"_

"_POTTER!"_

"_By Poseidon's earthquake inducing schlong! Is that a teddy bear?" Harry squeaked. "Is he…is he dressed like Darth Vader?"_

"_SHUT UP, POTTER!"_

"_He is! This is priceless!"_

"_Darth Teddy was a gift, damn you! I have nocturnal emotional insecurity, so I kept him!"_

"_YOU SLEEP WITH IT?"_

"_GET OUT OF MY ROOM!"_

"You_ summoned _me_, dickhead!"_

"_I WILL KILL YOU, POTTER! I will torture everyone you love! You will die alone! You—"_

"_This has been lovely, but I'm going to wake up now."_

* * *

Harry sat up, sweat covering his body. Moonlight was streaming in on him. He tried to get his breathing under control as he wrapped his mind around what happened.

"Damn. Nice body, Harry."

"Tonks!" he said, jumping.

"Calm down. I just want to cuddle. This time…. What's up with you? Bad dream."

"You're never going to believe this…."


	8. I Wanna Sex You Up

_**LbN: You can thank RespiteChristopher for this madness ;). Happy reading!**_

Five o'clock the following morning saw a rather anxious Metamorphmagus tiptoeing out of Harry's room, clutching her bathrobe and as much of her dignity as such a walk would allow. As (her) luck would have it, eight feet from the door to her room, hidden under the plush corridor carpet, was a squeaky board. It squeaked, as squeaky boards have a way of doing when one is walking quietly at ungodly hours of the morning trying not to wake anyone. Unfortunately for Tonks, two doors down from her room was one of the fourteen libraries of Gryffindor Sound.

"Tonks, you didn't!" Hermione shout-whispered as she peeked her head out the library door. "I thought we had an understanding!" Tonks sighed, and made her way sheepishly to the library.

"No, I didn't," Tonks replied, "but what the hell do you mean by 'an understanding'? All you said was that Harry's first time ought to be special, with a friend, and I agreed, and then he smiled at you with those new dimples of his and you fainted. I didn't know you wanted him for yourself!"

"I didn't mean me," Hermione said. "Well, I might've then, actually, but –"

"Well, I don't know how that's going to happen for you, either, lovergirl, as his head keeps getting bombarded with images of Voldemort in full leathers disciplining dear auntie Bella who's in nothing but a gimp mask and hung from the ceiling on a stretcher bar."

"In a what? At what kind of bar? And what do you mean, either? I thought –"

"Gimp mask, it's, well… I'm sure there's a book about it somewhere around here; these purebloods are always into that kinky shit." Hermione's eyes lit up as though it was her birthday and Christmas all at once.

"Ooh, speaking of, this is the best library ever, Tonks," she said, and in her mind that was totally not a complete non-sequitor. "Did you know that all you have to do is think of a book and it falls right into your lap?"

And, like clockwork, a book floated from the ceiling straight towards Hermione's outstretched hands: _An Occlumency Primer_, by Obsepio Menslector.

"Funny," Hermione said, "I wasn't thinking about Occlumency at all; I think it's got its wires crossed.

"No, I was," Tonks said. "I was wondering how to help Harry keep the Spank Lord out of his head long enough for me to make a man out of him. Ooh, but here's another one. This might be what you were looking for."

Unfortunately for Hermione, she'd caught the first book, leaving Tonks's hands free for the second one: _Lesbian Sex_, by JoAnn Loulan. Tonks tilted her head and smirked, while Hermione blushed furiously.

"Well, I guess you could say Ginny and I have come to a bit of an understanding, too," she stammered, studying her bare feet intently.

"Oh, honey," Tonks said, "you'll be fine. Just keep your nails short and let Ginny show you what to do. She's, er, familiar with the particulars"

"Tonks!" Hermione gasped, "Tell me you didn't."

"Relax, kid," Tonks said, stroking the younger witch's hair, "I didn't. First of all, she's what, 14? Secondly, she and Luna were, well, let's just say they weren't always as good at door-locking spells as they are now; long story that. Plus, witches aren't my thing, regardless of what you hear from that Hestia Jones – I mean, er, stay away from Firewhiskey shooters, kid. Bad news. Especially on stakeouts. Or something. I'll be headed back to my, er, I'll leave you to your reading."

"Wait – Tonks, before you go," Hermione said, grabbing the Auror's arm. "You won't tell anyone about this, will you? I'd, er, we'd rather like to keep it quiet."

"About what?" Tonks asked with a wink before walking back to her room.

Breakfast that morning was a quiet affair. Vanilli and Clyde served Harry and his guests individually as they came down. Coffee and tea both were provided, as well as a full English breakfast, pumpkin juice, and a bountiful assortment of pastries and fresh fruit. Ron was the first to the table, with Harry right behind. Tonks bounced downstairs, and right onto Harry's lap before he gently suggested she might be more comfortable in her own seat. Fred and George soft-shoed their way into the dining room wearing matching red and white footed pyjama onesies with nightcaps. Hermione and Ginny appeared precisely four minutes and thirty seconds apart, sat on opposite sides of the long table, all with the excruciating precision of an OCD-addled bookworm. When Remus finished what he liked to call his "hot breakfast" (fag and a cuppa), he asked Tilly to get him a chalkboard and some chalk.

"Oh, that's in Miss Hermione's library," Tilly replied. "Miss Hermione, did you get all the books you's wanting?"

Hermione blushed a moment, and mumbled a quiet "Yes, thank you."

"Books?" Remus asked. "Hermione, we were about to start analyzing where we were plan-wise, but if you've – never mind, of course you've been doing some research on your own. What have you found?"

"Well, I –"

"Oh, Miss Hermione's not needing the books for reading, Mr Remus. She's wanting Miss Ginny to – how did she says? - ravage her like Aphrodite naked on a pile of books instead."

The table went silent as Tilly continued.

"Yes, and she is crying out to Miss Ginny 'Come to me now to end this consuming pain, bringing what my heart desires to be brought: Be yourself my ally in this fight!' but youse didn't hears it with her Muffliato."

"That will be all, Tilly," Hermione grumbled, as the rest of the table (minus Ginny, who was very busy trying to slide underneath the table) looked at her agape.

"I's getting your chalkboard now that I remembers where it is, Mr Remus," Tilly said. Then, nearly under her breath she added "Teach a bitch to leave knitted hats for a house-elf, I dids."

Remus was the first to compose himself enough to speak after Tilly's demonstration of House-Elf Retribution.

"Was that – were you actually quoting Sappho?" he asked Hermione.

"I find the Wharton translation a bit stodgy for such occasions, but yes," she replied, much too far past embarrassed to be blushing.

"Well, yes, but... Right. There are several things we could be doing whilst here at Gryffindor Sound," Remus continued. "Firstly, there's the whole Dark Lord problem. Harry? Has he been in contact with you through your connection again? Harry?"

Harry sat there, still rather mute, mouth agape, until Tonks roused him with a Rennervate.

"Harry?" Remus repeated. "Any more contact with the Dark Lord?" Harry's eyes opened wide in shock.

"Oh. Oh Gods, no. Tonks, please put me back under!" Harry whinged. "The images, they burn!"

Tonks snickered a bit. "Yes, Remus, He-Who-Shall-Have-Issues had a couple of moments' connection with our hero here. Scarred the poor boy for life, I fear."

"Right. So we know he's still active. Then there's the bit with Dumbledore; is that something we want to pursue at present?"

Clyde appeared with a potion that seemed to calm Harry enough to continue.

"That might be where we should start first, Remus," he said, regaining his composure. "But weren't we going to have some training first? I thought-"

And suddenly, the room was plunged into total darkness. Ron and the twins, still catatonic from the earlier conversation, barely noticed. Tonks got up from her seat, began to look around, and promptly tripped over an end-table. Remus sniffed the air, hoping his heightened senses would give him the intruder's location, but six un-washed teenagers crushed any hope of that. Hermione hissed "For God's sake, Ginny, that's lovely, but... Time and place, Ginny, time and place!" under the table. Just as suddenly, a voice boomed out.

"Constant - !

And then the room was illuminated again.

"- Huh? Dammit, who turned the lights on?" Moody asked.

"Right. Sorry, that was me." Harry said, with his hand raised in apology. "I figured it was you, because we keyed you into the wards last night, but I just wanted to make sure."

"Well, quit it, Potter," Moody replied. "How'm I supposed to train you lot if I can't sneak up on you in the dark? I'll try this again. First one to find me gets to eat supper tonight!"

And the room went dark again. And then it wasn't. Again.

"POTTER!"

"Sorry, Mad-Eye. I get peckish in the evening."


	9. Love Potion Number 9

**Like Juggling Snowballs through Hell**

Before Mad-Eye could begin again, Fred and George spoke up.

"Before you start –"

"– Mum wanted us –"

"– to tell you –"

"– that she'd really like –"

"– to see you–"

"– and she promised –"

"– not a word about Dumbledore," Fred finished.

Although Ron and Ginny continued eating breakfast peacefully, Tonks's eyes crossed and Harry frowned at the twins. "Do you two have any idea how annoying that is?"

"Is it?" George asked seriously.

Harry stared at him. They really weren't aware? "It is, very much."

"Okay then," said Fred briskly with a nod to his twin. "You got the message anyway, right? Mum's having kittens, not having the chance to fatten you up."

"She might change her tune once she sees you now," Tonks said, giving Harry an approving once-over. Hermione and Ginny made noises of agreement, still clearly appreciative of Harry's literal overnight transformation despite their newfound 'understanding.'

"It might not be a bad idea," Remus spoke up. "Gives Alastor and I a day to prepare for your lessons."

"I suppose that works," Harry decided. "Nymphadora, you in for a trip to the Burrow?"

"I'm all yours, babe," she replied with a wink. "Maybe you can talk some sense into Molly and help her realize that our dearly beloved Headmaster isn't as altruistic as he appears."

Harry looked to Mad-Eye for confirmation, but he was prodding an omelet with his wand, clearly suspicious. Willie stood nearby, watching Mad-Eye with such a look of offense that Harry expected they hadn't seen the last of the House-Elf Retribution Front.

When everyone had finished eating and washed up, the teenagers plus Tonks made to leave.

Remus popped down from one of the libraries, where he had settled with Hermione-like enthusiasm. "Anything in particular you'd like to focus on when you return?"

"Dueling, Occlumency, Legilimancy, and Animagus transformation," Harry instantly reeled off. Hermione raised her eyebrows. "What? Just because I wasn't particularly concerned with academics for five years means I can't change my tune? Nothing like a life-or-death prophecy to give you a swift kick in the arse."

"If you need to be smacked in the arse," Tonks began quietly, quelled by a look from Remus.

Once past the boundary of the wards, the twins each took a girl, leaving Tonks with Ron and Harry, and all apparated to the Burrow. Molly Weasley met them in the garden, immediately sweeping Harry into a rib-cracking hug.

"Let me look at you," she said when she finally released him. Her eyes widened, and Harry was grateful to note that they only showed surprise and none of the other emotions that the other women in his life had shown. _Immensely_ grateful.

"Do I pass inspection?"

She smiled fondly. "At least those Muggles have been feeding you properly for once. Now come inside out of this ridiculous heat."

While they draped themselves across the sitting room, soon joined by Bill and Fleur, Molly disappeared into the kitchen to fix lunch. Surprisingly, the twins offered to help.

"You've become quite the name over at Gringotts, Harry," Bill said. "Just be careful. Goblins are a tricky lot."

"I think they're rather similar to house-elves, though I'd never say it to one's face: if you treat them with respect, you'll earn theirs," Harry replied. "And they're not as tricky as Dumbledore."

Bill harrumphed. "Yes, about that –"

The twins bounced into the room with a large platter of goblets of pumpkin juice, distributing them across the room. "Here you are, Harry, Hermione," George said, handing them the last two remaining.

Everyone took a sip, and then two very interesting things happened at once. Hermione threw herself at Ginny, knocking the younger girl to the floor and pinning her there very effectively with her mouth. Harry slid down the sofa until his thigh was pressed against Ron's, stroking the side of his face. "You're pretty."

"Er, I am?" Ron repeated in a high voice, trying to move away but trapped by the arm of the sofa.

"What the bloody hell?" Bill asked in amazement. "What was in – GINNY WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR HANDS!"

"I love you," sighed Harry.

On Harry's other side Tonks watched the two boys with some interest. "I don't know whether to be annoyed or turned on."

Alerted by the commotion, Molly ran into the room, coming to a screeching halt. Her eyes widened as she saw what could only be described as Harry petting Ron, and she let out a gasp when she spotted what could be seen of Ginny under Hermione. "Hermione? GINEVRA!"

Fleur covered her face with her hands. "What kind of family is zis I am marrying into?"

In the middle of it all, Fred and George merely watched with amusement.

"I know how to handle this," Tonks declared. She wound Harry's hands away from Ron, who breathed a sigh of relief only to cut off abruptly when she plopped herself in Harry's lap, resting her feet in Ron's and winding one hand around both boys' necks. "Pity you don't look like Charlie, but I can work with this."

Harry beamed. "As long as I can be with my beloved Won-Won."

"Help me," Ron pleaded weakly.

Seeing that his mother had lost the power of speech when Ginny was about one removed garment away from showing off just how many muscles were Quidditch-toned, Bill stood up, pointing an accusing finger at the twins. "What did you do?"

"Oi! We're the picture of innocence," Fred said, adopting an appropriate expression.

"It's clearly some type of love potion, and I know you two carry them at that shop of yours."

"You wound me –"

"– oh brother of mine. I would never –"

"– do such a thing."

"Don't you know how annoying that is?" Bill asked in exasperation. "Now tell me you left some antidote in your old room."

They exchanged a look. "We might have," admitted George, and they quickly disappeared upstairs.

Just then Kingsley Shacklebolt, Auror and Order member, walked into the Weasleys' sitting room. "Sorry, Molly, I've been knocking but no one answered and I was worried …" he trailed off, his regal features showing first confusion and then astonishment as he took in the scene. "Er, Molly?"

"She's in a bit of shock," Bill said. "_Someone_ supplied these two with a love potion. Fred and George are looking for an antidote right now, but I'm not sure what to do in the meantime."

"Unfortunately, it's best to let it play out," Kingsley advised. "Love potion victims have been known to become violent. Who are the victims, by the way?"

"Just Harry and Hermione, I believe."

"Merlin's beard! That's Potter?" Kingsley narrowed his eyes at the no longer scrawny teen.

"No more fucking glasses!" Harry shouted gleefully before returning his attention to his intended paramour. "All the better to gaze at this face."

Kingsley glanced at Bill with a trace of a smile. "And what about Ginny and Tonks?"

"My sister seems to be a rather willing participant," Bill said in a hard tone. "And I'm not sure what Tonks is doing. Tonks?"

The pink-haired Metamorphmagus barely glanced up, mischief written all over her face. "I'm instructing these two fine young men in the finer points of that lovely French experience known as a me–"

"Got it!" The twins thundered down the stairs, holding up a medium-sized vial. "A few drops of this will sort them right out."

Accordingly, the antidote was administered, though only after Ron personally asked Harry to drink some and Kingsley physically removed Hermione from Ginny. After a few seconds both victims sank into chairs, Hermione embarrassed and Harry mortified. Molly came back to life after Bill gave her a shot of Ogden's Finest, when she shocked everyone by throwing back like a pro. Ron wouldn't look Harry in the eye, Ginny was rather disappointed, and Tonks offered to take Harry's mind off it.

"Why are you here anyway, Shacks?" Tonks asked from her perch on the arm of Harry's chair.

"Looking for you, actually. You haven't been to work in several days."

"Work? Shite. I do have a job, don't I?" With one last soothing hug for Harry where his head just so happened to be on level with her cleavage, Tonks made tracks for the door. "Bye, all. I'm off like Hermione's knickers last night."

Bill stood in the middle of his room, looking from his mother, who flushed, to his twin brothers, who grinned. "Alright, no one else is leaving until we figure out what just happened."


	10. At the Weasleys'

_**LbN: Draco's...beginning pose...is based on a picture of Justin Bieber. Seriously. It makes me laugh every time I see it and just screams "Malfoy". Thanks to everyone who's reading, reviewing, etc! Enjoy the madness...:)**_

"It wasn't you," Harry said as he and Fred set the table for lunch. The level of embarrassment in the room had been so high that Bill had finally stopped asking questions. They'd gone back to their conversations as if nothing had happened.

"Come again?"

"You and George have a look of fiendish glee when a prank. It looks kind of like a cross between an orgasm, a sneeze and a migraine. You just looked curious and slightly amused this time."

"I think Mum meant to hand the drinks out herself. We picked the wrong day to be helpful, I suppose. I think you were supposed to get the one for Ginny—"

"And Hermione was supposed to be all over Ron. Not sure how I feel about how strong she made my love potion."

"Hermione's smaller than you, so it probably would've been the correct dose if you'd actually gotten it."

"Zeus's crusty toenails…."

* * *

"Conference time!" Ginny said playfully. "Why are we gathering in the secrecy of Ron's room?"

"This house is warded," Harry said without preamble. "Everything we say is being sent to Dumbledore, and I'm guessing Tonks won't be able to get back in. And obviously we can't get out."

"How do you know, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Like Moody was going to let me come over without teaching me how to check for wards."

"You look rather calm about it, mate," Ron said.

"Meh. If Dumbledore wants to talk to me, he's got until tomorrow at lunch."

"Do we even want to know?" Ginny asked.

"Eire will be making a visit."

"I am not flying out of here on the back of a dragon," Hermione stated flatly.

"You won't have to," Ron said. "The magic in a dragon's scales is so powerful that they are able to break through wards. That's one of the reasons there's a ban on domesticating them. During the War of the Roses, wizards on either side used them as both travel and weapons—breaking through wards on different estates and castles and subsequently fucking the nobles' shit up. Once the ward had been breached, the army could follow after, because the magic was weakened so much. After Eire gets through, Remus, Tonks and Moody should be able to as well."

They all stared blankly at Ron.

"What? I know shit too, sometimes!"

"Anyway," Harry said, slightly in shock. "I just wanted to let you know so that no one brought up any…er…private plans. And so that you two," he nodded to Ginny and Hermione, "don't give our dear Headmaster an eyeful playing doctor tonight."

"You heard that?"

"Hermione, I thought you cast muffliato on the door!"

"I did!"

Ron went pale and excused himself.

"Er…I was just joking…but now that I know your plans for the evening—"

"Oh, shut up, Harry."

* * *

"_Hello again. We really need to stop meeting like this."_

"_Potter…I suggest you pay me some respect if you want your friends to live."_

"_My friends are perfectly capable of looking after themselves, Lord Moldyshorts. And more importantly, we look after each other. I'm explaining this slowly since you don't have any friends and the concept is probably new to you…."_

"_Potter!"_

"_Can we move this along? Tonks just came back, and I'd like to become a man before you try to kill me again."_

"_I DIDN'T NEED TO KNOW THAT, POTTER!"_

"_Where's Darth Teddy gone? You didn't rip out all of his stuffing in a fit of rage, did you? Muggle torture and slavery is one thing…eviscerating your favorite stuffed animal is just demented."_

"…"

"_Nothing to say?"_

"_Your death is going to be slow and painful."_

"_Yes, I'm sure I'll beg for mercy and go catatonic remembering past loves and friendships and all that….Can I break this link now? Tonks bought a pink teddy to match her hair. I kind of want to get on this."_

"_A pink teddy? I didn't know they made pink bears! I'll have to find one for Lucius's birthday."_

"_No, not a…never mind. I'm leaving now."_

"_Potter! Don't you—"_

Harry shook himself and grinned over at Tonks. "No worries. I'm back."

* * *

Everyone was quiet at lunch the next day. Eire had turned up right at noon, and it was apparent that Molly wasn't exactly thrilled to have a large green dragon snoozing in her back garden. They could all tell that shit was about to get real, because she kept glancing at Harry like she wanted to say something. They managed to make it to dessert before all hell broke loose.

"You really gave us a fright, Harry," she said evenly.

"I know," he said. "I'm sorry, that wasn't my intention. But after Sirius died, I had three good weeks to do some serious soul searching, and this…." he made a gesture with his hand. "It just seemed like the right choice."

"You really ought to trust Dumbledore, Harry—"

"Molly, dear…" Arthur said.

"No, Arthur. Listen, Harry, Dumbledore's just looking out for you. Your safety is—"

"Meaningless to him," Harry interrupted. "No, sorry, I take that back. What I meant to say, is that my overall health and safety isn't his endgame. He wants to keep me alive, but it's because I'm the Chosen One, or The-Boy-Who-Will-Live-To-Kill-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, or whatever they're calling me these days."

"I just don't think you should turn your back on the man who's kept us safe for…what?" she asked grumpily, for Harry started laughing so hard that lemonade came out of his nose.

"Kept us safe? We've ended up in life threatening danger more times than I can count. And as for you and Mr. Weasley…what has Dumbledore done for you personally? Last year, did he once put wards on your house? Even after the Azkaban breakout?" He smiled and shrugged when the question was met with silence. "He's orchestrating everything his way, yes. But let's not kid ourselves about the whole 'safe and sound in Dumbledore's hands' thing."

There was a sharp noise outside, and the group saw Dumbledore walking toward them. He reached the door and gave them a bow. "Harry," he said. "I think it's time we talked."

Slurping down the rest of his ice cream, Harry nodded and stood. He followed silently out to the garden, a bit away from where Eire was rolling in Molly's foxglove bushes. "I'm actually kind of glad you showed," Harry said.

"Yes, well…after that speech I couldn't bring myself to stay away. Shall we talk?"

Harry nodded and sat on the bench.

* * *

***Meanwhile, at Malfoy Manor***

"Daddy!" Draco said, curling up on his father's lap. He glared at the prison guards as they snickered. The Malfoys were so rich that they'd been able to pay for human guards and house arrest, rather than Dementors at Azkaban. Not that there were too many Dementors left in the employ of the Ministry….

"What's this rubbish about Potter becoming a baron, or some such?" Lucius asked Narcissa.

"Exactly what it sounds like, from my information," Narcissa told him. "Draco's going to submit himself for soul bond evaluation tomorrow."

"Don't let her make me, Father," Draco whinged, producing some fake tears.

"Shut up," Lucius said. The fake crying hadn't worked in years….

"Fine," Draco pouted. He forgot how he was situated, tried to stomp his foot, and ended up kicking Lucius in the groin. He found himself on the floor promptly after this. "Ow!"

"Draco, must you whinge about everything?" Narcissa asked, accepting a glass of wine from one of the elves.

"I don't want to go!"

"Potter," Lucius wheezed, "Is entitled to pick his soulmate from the pool of eligible purebloods. You are an eligible pureblood, so you must go."

"It's not like Potter's going to pick me anyway! He's too stuck on that bushy-haired mudblood."

"Draco Abraxas Malfoy! If you lose a baron to a mudblood I will write you out of my will!"

Draco sat moving his mouth like a fish. "But…but it's Potter!" he wailed. "Surely you can't want me to marry him!"

"I want you to do your best at the evaluations, whatever they are," Lucius said. "And don't call me Shirley."

"I hate everything," Narcissa said, knocking back her wine.


	11. The Life Debt Magic Betrothal

**Like Juggling Snowballs through Hell**

Albus Dumbledore sized up the young man on the bench. He had been so careful - so very, very careful - and somehow it had still gone pear-shaped. He needed a boy who had nothing to live for; beaten down by life and brought to his knees by fate. Impoverished. Malnourished. He needed a willing sacrifice. He needed someone with all the love of his sainted mother – the very avatar of the Blessed Virgin Herself – who would give that love to a girl like Ginny, perfectly pleasant, but without the kind of rack that a man would drop everything just to motorboat one more time. But Miss Weasley, it seemed, had lost her girlhood crush on The Boy Who Lived, and now had her eye on the fairer sex. And this – what he saw in front of him – was a young man who now had everything. This child would have no reason at all to lay himself down. He would fight to the end, and then there would be no one to fulfill the prophecy. If only he could make the child understand. It would take some doing, but he steeled himself for a long conversation.

"Harry, what you must understand is – "

"No, Albus," Harry replied, standing. "What _you_ must understand is that I don't care. You stole from me. You stole my childhood, my peace, a life with people who love me. You stole all of that from me. And now I'm going to steal it back." Harry whistled loudly, with two fingers (another thing he hadn't been able to do with the block on his magic), and Eire swooped down by his side – well, as by-his-side as a six-story dragon can be.

"Professor," Harry began. "You have five minutes to make your case. And I swear, if you use the words "Greater Good" at any point in your explanation, Eire here will flay the skin from your arse and feed it to you. Roasted."

"Bugger," Albus muttered under his breath.

"Oh, he'll do that to you, too."

"Fine. Then I'll explain it back at the Dursleys'. _Incarcer-_!"

"Hold it right there, Professor!" a voice shouted from near the shed. Harry turned around to see Tonks walking towards them, Auror badge out and wand at the ready. "Kidnapping a Lord-Baron is a very serious offense."

"Lord-Baron?" Albus asked, incredulously.

"Right," Harry answered. "Let me introduce myself. Lord-Baron Harry James Potter-Black, Heir to Gryffindor, Baronet of Peverell, and Noble of Chudley. But you can just call me Your Lordship."

"Bugger me," Albus muttered under his breath, once again unsuccessfully.

"Well, I haven't morphed like that in ages, but still, ew," Tonks replied. "Anyway, he's not just some kid you can go around napping. Now, off with you."

"Oh, no. You _don't_ talk to Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore that way, missy," Albus replied, indignant. "Besides, I'm here by a Witch of the Manor's invitation. You can't kick me off the premises, Auror or not."

Harry looked aghast. He whispered to Tonks "Witch of the Manor's Invitation? What is that? Sounds ominous."

"Just some shit he made up, Harry," Tonks answered, decidedly not whispering. "Now, there will be no kidnappings here today, Professor. Got that?"

Albus was by this time furious. Molly had promised him that this would go smoothly; he'd be in the thrall of the love potion she was supposed to have dosed him with; and to please his intended mother-in-law, he'd go quietly. This? This was not quiet. Nor was it over. Nobody beat Albus Dumbledore. Not even Gellert Grindewald could – at least not without Albus's permission, but that was different.

"This isn't over, Harry. I will have you back." There was a loud crack, and Albus was gone, but not before the words "For the greater good!" boomed over the Burrow's orchard, causing Eire to send a targeted blast of fire to where Albus had been standing.

As the smoke cleared (quite literally), Harry stood looking at Tonks in amazement. After a moment, his mind was able to form something resembling words.

"How did you do that? I mean, how do you do that? How did you know to be in the shed while Dumbledore and I were talking out here?"

"Oh, that? Well, I was just in the shed rubbing one out after that display with you and Ron – okay, rubbing five or six out, that was really hot – and I heard a commotion and – mmmf."

As Harry kissed her, Tonks noticed a trembling sensation. At first she thought it was her knees, because Harry was a really, really good kisser. And music; she could have sworn she heard music. But it couldn't have been her knees, because Harry's kiss had lifted her two feet off the ground. When the kiss ended, she opened her eyes and saw that neither the trembling nor the music had been illusions. The earth, for six meters in every direction was rippled, as if from a stone tossed into a pond. And encircling their heads was a flock of thirteen nightingales, whistling brightly. Tonks was breathless.

"You saved my life, Tonks," Harry said, softly. Suddenly, surrounding the pair was a soft white light. The nightingales began to whistle Guantanamera and do the Mexican Wave around their heads. A cool breeze blew past, which made them shudder briefly. Then the sun came out to warm them. Tonks's face went ashen, and her hair turned a vibrant jet-black.

"What was that?" Harry said. "I mean, sure, it was a hell of a snog, but that white light was a bit over-the-top, don't you think?"

"That- Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry." A tear spilled out of Tonks's left eye, and in its wake was a trail of black pigment, as if caked-on eyeliner was running down the Metamorphmagus's face. "A kiss like that, followed by an admission of a life-debt – Harry, we're nearly married!"

"Wait – what? All I did was kiss you. I mean, it was lovely and all, and I really meant it, but –"

"I know, Harry. And I didn't mean to trap you into this by saving your life or anything – well, I meant to save you from Dumbledore, but – you know what I mean, right? You're wonderful and all, but at 15 you shouldn't be trapped in a relationship like this with someone like me. It's just not right."

"Someone like you, Tonks? I think someone like you is pretty brilliant, actually," Harry said, and kissed her again, causing the same reaction in the Earth surrounding them and the birds flying over their heads (who'd moved on to La Donna è Mobile). When they broke their kiss, a faint humming sound could be heard coming from Tonks.

"We should probably get going. Let's get the others," Tonks said, softly, as she grabbed Harry's hand and led him into The Burrow. Molly, as was her wont, was quietly stirring something or other on the stovetop."

"Well, Harry dear, did you and Professor Dumbledore have a nice chat? Did you have time to work everything out? Ginny's upstairs, she was hoping you'd –"

As Molly turned around, she saw the not-just-metaphorical glow surrounding Harry and Tonks, saw their entwined hands, and quickly surmised what had happened outside, and how it affected her plans with Professor Dumbledore.

"NOT MY BRIDE PRICE, YOU BITCH!" she screamed, and reached in her apron for her wand. Harry was a bit quicker than that, though, and wrinkled his nose in her direction, causing Molly to freeze in place. Tonks let out a gasp.

"Harry, this time you saved _my_ life!" she exclaimed, and kissed him soundly on the lips. The soft white light surrounding them grew brighter, coalesced into a beam, split in three, and braided itself around the pair. When Tonks noticed this, she buried her face in the palm of her hand.

"Crap, crap crap! I did not just say that!"

"What's wrong, Tonks? What did you say?"

"Remember how outside I said we were 'nearly married'? Well, as a result of your having saved my life, and my having acknowledged that, sealing that acknowledgement with a kiss, we are now actually married. We have a fortnight to consummate the marriage, or else."

"Or else what? And a fortnight's a bit of a long time, anyway."

"Well, it just sounded Britisher than a week. And I really don't know – this Life Debt Magic Betrothal hasn't happened in over 400 years."

"Well, let's not find out, shall we?" Harry said, playfully swatting Tonks's rear. "Let's head upstairs and find the others. "


	12. I'll Make Love 2 U

_**LbN: Yeah, so...this chapter is most definitely rated M. ;) **_

* * *

It was quickly established, upon returning to the bountiful library of Gryffindor Sound (leaving a frozen Molly Weasley in the kitchen of the Burrow), that Harry and Tonks were indeed married, and once they saw the rather gruesome pictures of what "or else" entailed, they quickly accepted the fact and decided to consummate sooner rather than later.

Neither had much objection to that.

And so it was that a few days after what passed for their wedding, the newly made husband and wife found themselves facing each other in their bedroom, silencing and contraceptive charms in place.

Harry suddenly felt very shy. How was he, a fifteen-year-old virgin, supposed to satisfy the grown woman standing in front of him?

"Harry? Har-ry?"

"What? Oh, sorry, love."

Tonks frowned. "Is the idea of sex with me that terrible?"

"No!" he blurted out. "Quite the opposite actually. I just realized I have no idea what I'm doing."

She grinned lasciviously. "Lucky for you, I do." One quick swish of her wand and she was approaching him in nothing but a lacy pink bra and matching knickers. And what a feast for the eyes that was. Creamy white thighs and a toned stomach and pert breasts just begging to be released. A wet set of lips at the nape of his neck reminded him that there was, apparently, more to his wife than a pair of breasts.

"Don't think, just do," she murmured against his collarbone. "I'll start the show, and you jump in whenever you feel like it."

Another flick of her wand, and Harry was left standing in his pants, already bulging impressively. Tonks gently pushed him until he felt the foot of the bed at his back, still kissing and nibbling at his neck. She worked her way down his chest, murmuring with satisfaction at his sculpted abs. Harry suddenly gasped as she removed his boxer shorts with one pull, exposing his cock to the cool air.

"Oh, my," she whispered, leaning back and looking him in the eye, as it were.

"Yeah?" he said, grinning stupidly despite himself. At least he was sure he measured up in one area.

"Oh, yes," she replied, voice thick with lust.

Harry gasped again as his cock was once more exposed to air, this time warm. Tonks had leaned forward and lightly blown at the tip, flicking her tongue when she pulled away. Pushing him against the bed must have been a calculated move on her part because Harry found himself grabbing the bed frame to stay standing. All blood and coherent thought rushed south, and his hips twitched forward, yearning for a follow-up to the preview.

Thankfully, his wife was an obliging sort, and when she leaned forward again, she slipped her lips over the head, sucking for all she was worth. Harry groaned loudly; this was better than treacle tart, Quidditch, and anything he'd ever accomplished on his own all rolled into one. Back and forth her head bobbed, taking in a more each time, and when his hand reached out of its own accord and grasped a handful of locks, lightly tugging, she moaned against him like she was the one getting pleasured. Harry hissed at the vibrations of her throat, and Tonks glanced up. When she caught his eye, she winked.

Damned if that wasn't the hottest fucking thing he'd ever seen.

Harry could feel the pressure building, and he simultaneously ached for release and never wanted it to end. Dimly in the back of his mind he realized that it was about to be over before he even thought of returning the favor. Fuck.

With great effort he pulled away and before she could object, he yanked Tonks to her feet and pulled her to him, crushing his lips against hers, beyond caring about where that mouth had just been. Her tongue swirled in his mouth as they kissed ardently. Was there anything that tongue couldn't do?

His hands traveled lower as his mouth nipped at her ear, jaw, throat, whatever he could find, and when he clenched her arse, pulling her upward, she complied, wrapping her legs around his waist. He groaned, feeling the heat just above his still very interested cock, and, desperate to move forward, he spun around, dropping them onto the bed.

Tonks let out a surprised laugh that quickly turned into a low moan when he buried his face between her breasts, kissing and licking and squeezing. Her bra clasped in the front, and with one flick of his fingers her breasts sprang into view, round and firm with lovely pink nipples, coming more and more to a point as he drew his fingers over them.

Harry spent only a second simply gazing at them before taking one breast into his mouth. Tonks moaned again, wriggling beneath him as he lavished her with attention, tracing a path down her stomach and causing her to giggle. He slipped one hand beneath the waistband of her knickers, groaning against her as he explored this most sensitive of areas, enjoying her gasps when he touched something she particularly liked.

He was as hard as a rock against the bed, wanting to be inside her so badly it hurt, but at the same time watching and feeling her writhe and moan beneath him was nearly as good. Perhaps she was thinking the same thing, for when her moans grew louder and she was all but shaking, she suddenly slid out from underneath him, flipping him onto his back in one smooth move he could only assume she learned in Auror training.

She reclined on her ankles for a moment, taking him all in with undisguised want written all over her flushed face, and Harry took the opportunity to do the same. When had she removed her knickers?

"Beautiful," he breathed, and she smiled.

Straddling his waist, she leaned forward and placed her lips at his ear, her voice hoarse. "If you think I look good, just wait until you see how I feel."

Whatever response he might have made was lost as she straightened up and sank down on him. Harry was pretty sure the world stopped, or at least shrank to his cock, surrounded by flesh that was so fucking hot and wet and seemingly molded just for him that he probably stopped breathing.

And then she moved.

He was vaguely aware of making some sort of unintelligible noise, but all he could comprehend was Tonks riding him, hips moving up and down, her breasts bouncing in time, her hands balancing on his chest. Harry found his own hips driving up to meet her. He couldn't be still at all, his hands reaching up to squeeze her breasts then dropping to feel the muscles of her arse then grasping her hips to guide her movements. Eyes half closed, she was moaning and Harry was grunting and above all was the incredibly erotic sound of skin slapping skin.

Fuck it all, he wished it would last for days, but suddenly this wasn't enough. Wanting to fuck his wife properly, Harry sat up, grabbing her waist and rolling them over in his own impressive maneuver. He wasted no time before thrusting back inside Tonks, who cried out, the clenching of her fingers in his back proof of her own pleasure. He fell into a rhythm, thrusting forcefully, kissing when they could manage it.

Tonks wrapped her legs around his waist, strong thighs pulling herself up to meet him. Harry was trembling with effort and _fucking hell this feels amazing _and judging by her moans which were becoming loud cries, Tonks was approaching a climax as quickly as he was. Encouraged by her _harder faster yes right there ohGodthat'ssogood_ Harry started fucking her wildly, abandoning any pretense of a pace and concentrating only on the sensation that was beginning to seize his cock and the hands that were raking at his back.

Without warning Tonks arched her back, squeezing around his cock so tightly it was exquisite nearly to the point of pain, throwing her head back. A ripple traveled across her skin and her hair cycled through a dozen colors as she let out a scream loud enough to push the limits of the silencing charm.

Harry thrust again and again, his body craving the same release. When it felt like every muscle in his body seized up at the same time as a pulse shot through him, he buried his face in Tonks's shoulder. And then,

"Oh, fuck."

He came with a shout, the proverbial fireworks shooting off behind his eyes as they rolled back into his head. He couldn't see, he couldn't hear, he couldn't smell, he only _felt_, and it was completely, overwhelmingly indescribable.

Both cried out again as a surge of magic exploded from within, a shockwave of blue light shooting straight up from their joined bodies before expanding to fill the room.

* * *

Unbeknownst to the newlyweds on the top floor, the coupling of their magic had some unexpected effects.

A floor below, Remus Lupin paced his room, trying to convince himself that his dream about Willy Wonka's chocolate factory and the … _way_ he had woken up were not related.

Down the hall, Ron Weasley stared down at himself with newfound respect. He'd certainly never gotten a response like that before.

On that same floor, Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley lay breathlessly next to each other. Ginny preened, thinking they'd reached new levels that night, while Hermione, the most well-read of the group, privately wondered if Tonks would still be willing to share Harry.

On the next floor, Fred and George Weasley slept soundly on, unaware of what they would awaken to in their sheets the following morning.

And many miles away, Bellatrix Lestrange wondered if the Dark Lord had just called her by her niece's name whilst in the throes of passion.

* * *

Eventually his surroundings returned, and Harry rolled over, more exhausted than a thousand Occlumency lessons, more satisfied than a thousand captures of the Snitch. He glanced at his wife, curled up on his side with the same lazy Cheshire Cat grin and half-lidded eyes that he wore, blissfully content.

"Wow, Nymphadora, that was … I don't even know what to say. We have to do that again."

She laughed softly. "I intend to. Are you sure you've never done that before?"

"Positive."

_How the hell was a virgin the best lay of my life? And how did he manage to last that long?_

Harry sat straight up, staring at his wife. "How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"You – you spoke in my head. Are you some sort of Legilimens?"

Tonks arched an eyebrow. "Not in the slightest. Did I addle your brain that much?"

Harry brushed at his damp fringe, wondering if he was still in some sort of post-coital haze. _That was weird._

Now Tonks was the one sitting up, eyes wide. "What the hell!"

"You can hear it, too! This, uh, this isn't normal, is it?"

Tonks shook her head. "Hearing thoughts that aren't my own has most certainly never accompanied any orgasm I've ever had. Something happened between us at the very end. I thought it was some sort of orgasmic aftershock, but clearly I was wrong."

"It's not a terrible thing, is it?"

Tonks grinned. "I could think of worse. And speaking of thinking, let's test this out." She closed her eyes, concentrating.

A moment later Harry, too, was grinning. "I've never done that before, but tonight's a night for first times, isn't it?" He disappeared under the sheet, sliding toward the foot of the bed.

* * *

The following morning the couple emerged tousle-headed and sleepy-eyed, walking rather gingerly hand in hand as they entered the kitchen where everyone else was waiting.

Millie met them at the door, handing each a steaming mug of coffee. "Good morning, Master Harry and Mistress Tonks. Breakfast is on the table, and I is sending Clyde to fix your bed."

"You broke your bed?" Ron blurted out, staring at the blushing couple with a mixture of awe and jealousy.

"Never you mind." Harry headed straight for Hermione. "Mione, something's happened."

"Harry, we –" she waved her hand at the other occupants "– were all aware of that last night. Very aware."

"Listen." Tonks quickly described what had happened last night, leaving out as many intimate details as she could. "Did you read anything like that with regards to the Life Debt Magical Betrothal?"

Her eyes widened. "Yes, I did. I took a book to bed last night for a bit of light reading –"

"That's not all you took to bed," Ginny murmured.

"– and I'll have to double-check, of course, but there was a section on an overflow of magic at the consummation due to an extremely strong magical core, it's really rare, hasn't happened in nearly a millennium, I believe, but it definitely explains what happened to us last night and –"

"Sometime today, Mione."

"Harry, you and Tonks have formed a soul-bond," she said simply.

Tonks blinked. "Come again?"

Harry glanced at his wife. "Already?"

Vanillie chose that moment to quietly make an appearance. "Master Harry, a letter for you."

Harry read the parchment, and his jaw dropped. He quickly read it again, his green eyes speeding back and forth behind his glasses. After the third time he crumpled it into a ball, his face darkening. "It's from Kahkblok. Draco Malfoy is disputing my inheritance from Sirius. Apparently there's a blood stipulation woven around Grimmauld Place and all that goes with it that requires it to be kept in the Black family. A will can't override that."

No one seemed to know what to say, but suddenly Harry smiled at his wife. "You are brilliant, Lady-Baroness Potter-Black."

Remus looked between the two. "What?"

Tonks grinned. "I simply reminded my husband that, disowned or not, blood is still blood, and he just so happened to marry into the Black family."


	13. Lord Baron Mistress Selection

**Like Juggling Snowballs through Hell**

_***Meanwhile, at Malfoy Manor***_

"Do you know why I allowed you to take the Mark, Draco?" Voldemort asked quietly.

"No, my Lord. But I thank you for the opportunity to prove myself," Draco stammered.

Voldemort chuckled. "Indeed, Draco. Come here." He patted his knee and opened his arms wide.

Draco just stared.

"Come now," Voldemort said. "Is this not how you sit with Lucius?"

"Er…yes, my lord. But he's…you know…my father."

"Am I not simply your dark father? Guiding you to your rightful place as a true pureblood prince in my new world? Protecting you from the baleful influences of mudbloods and halfbreeds? Teaching you—"

Lucius cleared his throat before Voldemort could really get going.

"Er…right," the Dark Lord said. "In any case, come hither, Draco."

Draco did so, sitting stiffly at the very edge of Voldemort's knee.

"Now, I hear you must present yourself to the Potter boy for selection?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Then you will make sure he chooses you. You will become his wife—"

"HIS WHAT?"

"His wife, and you will spy upon him and report back to me. I want to know where he's hiding and what he's planning."

"My…my lord…what if he chooses someone else?"

"He will not. We shall make sure you're prepared to please him both visually and physically."

"Where the fuck is that house elf," Narcissa muttered. "Toby! Five lemon drop martinis. And make them all doubles."

"AMYCUS!" Voldemort bellowed.

The portly Death Eater came shuffling in. "Yes my lord?" he said.

"We need to get Draco ready for his presentation to the Potter boy. I'm thinking baby blue or Little Bo Peep-green."

"Wait, what?" Draco asked

"And do something with his hair."

"Aye, my lord."

"I hate everything," Narcissa mumbled against the glass of her third martini.

* * *

"Harry! Eeek! Don't do that!"

"That's an interesting place to be ticklish…"

"AHEM!"

Harry and Tonks both jumped, pulling the blankets over themselves.

"Jesus shitting Christ, Mad-Eye!" Harry yelled. "Don't you ever knock?"

"Don't you two ever stop fucking?" the older man countered.

"We're newlyweds, I'm a sixteen year old boy, and the first part of her name is synonymous with a mythological being that couldn't stop fucking. So no."

"Well you're going to be late to your appointment at the Ministry, so put your dick back in your pants and get downstairs."

* * *

"Ron," Harry whispered. "Could you explain this to me again?"

"Sure. But remember, this is just based off stuff my dad's told us about wizarding history and what Hermione's read."

"Not a problem," Harry muttered as his wand was checked. The Ministry guard smiled and handed him his visitor's pass. It said "Lord Baron Mistress Selection".

"It's just a pureblood thing," Ron said, summarizing. "They like to trot out their kids, in hopes that the big name pureblood will pick them. Technically I should be in the lineup as well," he added with a grin.

Harry led the group (Mad-Eye, Tonks, Ron, and Remus) into a small circular chamber. A small group of people were lined up there, and it took all of Harry's will power to not burst out laughing.

"Whenever you're ready, Lord Potter," the Ministry official said.

"Thanks. Alright, you lot," he called. "Let's get this over with. I'm already soul-bonded with the sexy motherfucker with the green hair," he said, nodding to Tonks. "But apparently we still have to do this. So I guess I'm in the market for a mistress." He walked down the line and stopped at a little girl and her mom. "What's she doing here? She's, what? Six years old?"

"I'm seven," the little girl said.

"Take her home," Harry grumbled at the mom. "Neville?"

"Gran made me come. Seems to think you've had a good influence on me, and if I become your husband I'll finally start to live up to Dad."

"I'm sure your dad would be proud of you the way you are, Neville. You're braver than me on most days, frankly. Get out of here."

Next was Dean. "Come on, Potter," he said, grinning. "You know you want to ride this chocolate hurricane."

Harry grinned back, but was pulled aside by Ron before he could reply. "What's up, mate?"

"Harry, you're my best mate. But I swear if you tap that before I do, I'll join Voldemort."

Harry laughed and pushed the redhead towards Dean. "I think Ron's more your type, Dean. And what the hell? I thought you were a half-blood."

"I am, but my dad was from a powerful pureblood line, so they let me in," he explained. "Weasley?"

"Can I show him around GS?" Ron asked.

"Sure—he's a part of the DA anyway. But if you two decide to get it on, pick one room and stay there. I already have to deal with Hermione and Ginny playing Viking Lord and Tavern Wench all over the place. Right, next." He reeled back when he saw Millicent Bulstrode, Blaise Zabini, and Pansy Parkinson glaring at him. "Hell. Fucking. No," he said, pointing at each of them.

Last was a girl dressed in a frilly baby blue monstrosity, the likes of which Harry had only seen in nursery rhyme books. The girl hadn't looked at him once and hadn't spoken. Possibly embarrassed by all the lace she was buried in.

"Er…hello. What's your name?"

The girl didn't say anything.

"Wait…" Harry pushed the girl's bangs back. "DRACO? What the ever-loving—"

"Shut. Your. Mouth. Potter."

"You can't talk to me like that. I'm a Baron, or something," Harry said, grinning. "The fuck are you wearing?"

"You-Know-Who decided to let Amycus Carrow dress me."

"Did he do your make up too? You look like that Muggle actor Tom Felton turned into a pageant queen-tranny hooker."

"Bellatrix hasn't done make up in a while. Look, please don't make me go back to them. You can't imagine the things I've seen."

"I doubt a spoiled brat like you has had any lasting traumatic experiences to scar your psyche."

"I just had to watch my dad give He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named a blow job, and then let Amycus prepare me to please you in any manner you see fit. Use your bloody imagination there."

Harry retched. "Er…. Urgh. Just stop talking Malfoy."

"Look, let me come with you," Draco begged. "Grimmauld Place is mine anyway. I'm the only true Black remaining."

"Not true. Your cousin over there is as much a Black as you are. And since I married her, I am too. Plus I found a family tree in my mansion, and it says my great-great-great-grandmother was a Black."

"Potter!" Draco whinged.

"Cut it out! Even the seven year old had the decency not to whine at me."

"Look, we both know you wouldn't normally pick me—"

"I don't know about that," Harry said, hell bent on torturing Malfoy as much as humanely possible. "What if you and I are meant to be, and all that fighting was just sexual frustration brimming to the surface? What if it's not gravity holding me down? What if it's you?"

"I would threaten your life if it wouldn't get me chucked into Azkaban."

Harry laughed. "Promise to be nice to my wife and my friends?"

"Promise," Draco grumbled.

"And you agree that the first time you call Hermione a mudblood, I feed you to my dragon?"

"Can't I have three strikes? Old habits die har—wait. You have a dragon?"

Harry nodded. "Come on, Malfoy."

Fireworks shot off above their head.

"The hell was that?" Malfoy asked.

"I think we just bonded somehow."

"I'm not fucking you, Potter."

"Ick. Didn't ask you to. Let's go."

Moody limped up to him as they exited the hall. "What's in your head, Potter?"

"Keep friends close, enemies closer…."

* * *

"What have I told you about bringing home strays, Harry," Ginny asked, grinning at the group. "You can't keep everything you find as a pet."

"But he's so cute!" Harry said, pinching Draco's cheek.

"Harry, ferrets can be especially vicious," Hermione quipped from behind her mountain of books.

"Yeah, well, ferrets are related to weasels, and you don't seem to have a problem with them," Draco muttered.

"Shut it, all of you!" Harry said. "Okay. Malfoy can only leave or return with supervision. Remus, come help me in the library."

"What are we doing?" Remus asked.

"Looking up memory magic. If Draco's going to stay here, we can't have him reporting what we're actually doing to Voldemort."


	14. In Which Boredom Leads to Epiphanies

**Like Juggling Snowballs through Hell **

On Mount Olympus, one young Fate looked down on Humanity and shuddered. Bad things were afoot in Britain, and situations which had been merely dangerous were now bordering on cataclysmic. Horrible forces were at work; forces that could alter the destinies of millions.

"Thanatos, come quickly!" Harmonia called. "This is serious."

As Thanatos approached, Harmonia gave the more senior Fate a description of what she'd seen. Thanatos gasped and gave the evil eye; not something one generally sees from minor Deities on Mount Olympus, but this was not an ordinary situation.

"Sister, how did this come to pass?" She asked.

"He was left alone, given too little, and then far too much. He is too powerful, his followers are too many; they will destroy it all!"

"How could You - how could We let this happen?" Thanatos cried. "Sister, convene the Fates. This must be stopped!"

"But Sister," Harmonia replied, "wasn't it Our meddling in their affairs that brought this, this unholy thing into being?"

"Harmonia, I am afraid You are right. But after what I have seen, I weep for Humanity."

* * *

What Harmonia had seen, and what had shaken the foundation of Olympus itself, was that Harry Potter was bored. Bored, bored, bored. It had been a week since the Mistress Selection ceremony. Tonks had left to visit her mother, so nookie was out of the question. Lessons were over for the day, as Moody couldn't find anything else to teach Harry that Harry's own fevered mind couldn't come up with on its own. Or, as Moody put it "Th' lad is powerful, creative, rich, and fucked-up enough that if I were the Dark Tosser, I'd find a different line of work." It was only 3pm, so there was no sense getting dressed for supper. He had jumped in the shower after his lessons with Moody, but as he was busy with a little wand-polishing, he got a very firm bit of psychic pushback from his soul-bonded wife who apparently didn't appreciate that kind of stimulation while sitting at a tea salon with her mother and her father's sisters. So that was out of the question.

It goes without saying that Gryffindor Sound had a Quidditch pitch on the grounds, so Harry thought it might be a good idea to get a game going. He poked his head first inside of Ron's room, but he and Dean had the door locked, and Harry thought better of knocking. Ginny's door was open, and she was usually up for a bit of flying, but when he poked his head in, she and Hermione looked to be quite content; Ginny was strumming a guitar languidly whilst Hermione read from a large book of poetry by Edna St. Vincent Millay. Remus was pants on a broom, and Moody was already gone, and asking Draco would mean having to spend time with Draco, so that left Harry all by himself. Bored. Rich, powerful, and bored.

"Tilly!" Harry called out around 4, after having retreated to his palatial Master Suite.

"Yes, your Harryness?" she answered. Harry had trained his elves well.

"Tilly, I'm going to need your help here. I've conjured 17 pencils, tossed them at the ceiling, and they're all stuck there. Can you get them down for me?"

"I can, your Harryness," Tilly said, "but this is the fourth time this afternoon, and you can certainly get them down yourself by wrinkling your nose. Are you bored, your Harryness?"

"Christ on a stick, you know what, Tilly?" Harry asked, "You may be onto something there. Bored. I'm fucking bored. Any idea what I can do about it?""

"Well, if I may be so bold, your Harryness, you lot did roll in here a week and a half ago, fill up a chalkboard full of ideas about what to do, and you've done fuck-all about it. All I've seen is you having wild, furniture-smashing sex with Her Tonksyness, Miss Hermione and Miss Ginny plotting how to overthrow the patriarchy and organize a wizarding Lilith Fair, and Mr Ron and Mr Dean dressing up in identical outfits, dropping E and hitting the clubs every night. Not a shitload of dark wizard ass being kicked in here, sir."

"I thought I told you I don't like being called that, Tilly."

"Of course, your Harryness. My apologies. If that's all, I'll just be going."

"Yeah, we're good."

"_Well, that was a good three minutes,_" Harry thought to himself, banishing the pencils from the ceiling to Dudley's pillow in Surrey. "_And Tilly was right, wasn't she? We have done fuck-all about either Dumbledore or Voldemort_."

Suddenly, as he thought the Dark Lord's _nom de guerre_, a cold breeze entered the room...

_"Darth Teddy! Ooh, that's it. Yeah. Who's your Dark Lord? Come on, baby. Who's your Dark - POTTER!"_

_"Jesus, dude. I can't help it. Believe me; I don't need to be seeing any of this."_

_"Well, it's not like I can help it either, you insolent whelp. That damned hor- er, I mean... Darth Teddy! Get back here! Your discipline isn't over yet."_

Harry used every bit of psychic strength he could muster to break the connection. His whore. That was the clue he'd been missing. Now, Mouldyshorts had plenty of female minions, and he could have been referring to any of them - but only one that he wouldn't have simply offed for this kind of nuisance.

"Tilly!" Harry called. Tilly popped into the room with a wry smirk on her face.

"Yes, your Harryness?"

"Please assemble everyone in the War Room. Oh, and see if you can find Neville Longbottom, too."

"Let me guess," the elf answered sarcastically. "Luna, too?"

"And while you're at it, find Luna Lovegood."

"They're here already, your Harryness. In the War Room, waiting for you, along with everyone else."

Harry looked at his house elf quizzically. "How the crap did you do that?" he asked.

"I told you: don't fuck with a house elf. We're good."

"Right. Well, I best be off. Wait, I ought to be dressed for this. Where are my...?"

"Your cape with the Potter-Black crest is hung up behind the door. Your signet ring is in the nightstand drawer next to Her Tonksyness's, er, toys. And Draco has been polishing your shoes all day - apparently it takes longer when you have to buff it with your own hair, who knew?"

"You're awesome, Tilly," Harry replied, awestruck.

"Yes, I'm aware of that, too. Now go on, get out of here. Have some fun, and kick some Dork Lord arse for me, too, Your Harryness."

Harry dressed quickly, and made his way to Gryffindor Sound's sumptuous War Room to greet his guests. Luna sat comfortably next to Hermione and Ginny (who were quite comfortably lounging all over each other). Neville, on the other hand, was sitting in the middle of a settee, flanked by two young women Harry vaguely recognized, but whose names were escaping him. One was pouring a measure of Elderflower wine into a large, ornately jewel-encrusted golden goblet Neville held, and the other was holding an ermine-trimmed cloak and gold walking stick. Neither was wearing enough that one could call them 'dressed'. Neville, too, had changed. He looked to have grown two inches since Harry had seen him last. His face was squarer, as if the baby fat had been chiseled off, his shoulders broader, and he'd gained about two stone in pure muscle. When Harry entered the room, Neville stood to greet him, handing his goblet to the woman pouring the wine, and his wide-brimmed top hat to the woman holding his cloak and cane.

"Harry, my man," Neville said, embracing his long-time friend and dorm-mate.

"Neville!" Harry replied. "You look good. What the hell happened to you? And who are your friends?"

"Damnedest thing," Neville explained. "Little over a week ago, I'm lying in bed, just thinking about plants - you know - and I fall asleep, and I wake up with the sheets a mess and I look like this. Gran tells me that Dumbledore had put a block on my magic, and something powerful must have happened to break that block. Anyway, so now I'm Lord Longbottom, I have two minions - Harry, this is Su Li and Tracy Davis - and I'm living large. What about you? This is hardly a room under the stairs, mate."

"Yeah, that's a long story. We'll catch up. But tonight, we have business! Wait - isn't Davis a Slytherin?"

"Yeah," Neville said, "but she's also a half-blood. She's good. And besides, she'd hear everything anyway. The three of us are Soul Bonded."

Harry put his palm to his face, shaking his head. "Oh lord, not you, too? Anyway, that reminds me."

Harry screwed his face up in concentration

"_Tonks, you there?"_

"_Sure am, your Hunkyness," _she replied through their connection.

"_Good, 'cause you're going to want to see this. _Hermione, are you comfortable?" Harry said out-loud.

"I am, Harry, thank you for asking," she replied.

"You know, I believe you, but I think you can be more comfortable. Clyde, can you bring Draco in here, please?"

Clyde entered the war room, riding on top of Draco, who was crawling on his hands and knees in a French Maid hat and apron, chaps, a bit and bridle in his mouth, a plug with a horse-hair tail in an appropriate place for such a device, and a teeny-tiny cowboy hat on his head.

"Excellent," Harry said, as Clyde rode his steed into the middle of the assembly. "How has he been learning his new job?"

"He's a quick learner, Your Harryness," Clyde answered, "but he's not the attentive lover I'd hoped to make him by now. There's still time to break him, though."

"Thank you, Clyde. Now, Hermione, would you like to put your feet up?"

"Actually, Harry, I think I would," Hermione replied, kicking off her shoes and waiting for Clyde to ride Draco over to where Hermione and Ginny were sitting. She ground her toes into Draco's bare back when he arrived, as Clyde popped away.

"Ah, that's the stuff. Thank you, Harry."

"Of course. Now, if we're all settled, here's why I've called you. I've found out what's triggering my connection to the Dark Tosser, and we're going after her. The key is Bellatrix Lestrange!"

There was an audible gasp, and then there was silence. Finally, Remus spoke up.

"How, exactly, do you know that Bellatrix is the key to your connection, Harry?"

"He told me himself, Moony," Harry answered. "He was busy doing unspeakable things to one of his stuffed animals - I know, me too, and I have to see it! - and apparently I'm cock-blocking him just like he's doing to me, and he let it slip that it was 'That damned whore,' and then he was all 'nope, didn't say nothin'' and I figured that if it was one of his regular minions, he'd've just up and offed her by now, so it _has _to be Lestrange."

"Harry, that's - that's actually pretty logical," Hermione said. "I mean, I've no idea how Bellatrix would have caused this connection, but Christ, none of this crap that's happened in the last two weeks has made any sense anyway."

"Right. So we're settled then. Now, how do we go about it?"


	15. Neville's Pimp Juice

**Like Juggling Snowballs through Hell**

Harry stared around the expensive wooden table in the middle of the war room, tiny figurines scattered across an intricately carved and topographically correct map of Britain.

"Right. Now that Ron has demolished us all at a game of Risk, how about we get down to planning?"

Neville raised a ring-covered hand. "If I may, Lord-Baron Potter-Black?"

"Certainly, Lord Longbottom."

"Now, certainly we could coerce Bellatrix into making an appearance and proceed to smite her with our newly discovered smiting powers, but I've an idea that I believe would enrage the Head Death Muncher even more." Su gave him a sultry smile, and Tracy purred. "As you can see, the girls approve. What I propose is …"

* * *

The Dark Tosser himself slowly blinked several times before speaking. "Potter wants to what?"

"Parlay."

"I believe it's 'par_ley_', Draco," Lucius said, tugging at the collar around his neck.

Draco flushed. He wasn't sure what was worse: being corrected by his catsuit-wearing father who was connected to the Dark Lord by a leash, or standing in front of his father while wearing a purple coat, a black eye patch, and a tricorne hat with a skull and crossbones on the front. He even had a real-life parrot shitting all over his shoulder. "Fine. Parley. He wants you to send someone to parley."

"My Lord," Bellatrix breathed from his lap. "Send me, my Lord. Potter has been looking ever so delic-, er, that is, no teenage boy could stand against me."

All waited as Voldemort pondered the invitation. He didn't know what the boy was up to, but no matter at which angle he considered it, he couldn't sense something amiss. Perhaps Potter had finally conceded his inevitable death and merely wished to make it as painless as possible. From what Draco's reports said, he was at odd with the Muggle-loving fool Bumblebore, and so much the better.

"So you agree?" Draco asked.

Voldemort became aware all were staring at him, including Bellatrix from the stone floor. When had he moved from his throne? "Oh dear, was I doing it again?"

"Striding across the room in bare feet whilst pontificating on your entire plan, only pausing to laugh maniacally? Yes," Draco said sarcastically.

"CONSTANT INSOLENCE!" he bellowed. "That's all I get from you lot."

"That's not all you get," purred Bellatrix, licking her lips as her heavily lidded eyes turned his direction.

Lucius snorted. "Believe me, we all know that."

"Jealous, dear brother-in-law?"

"Would all of you just shut up!" Voldemort rubbed his head, trying to think. This lack of sleep was really getting to him, but he was constantly being interrupted by The-Boy-Who-Shagged and that luscious niece of Bella's, cavorting at all hours in the most extraordinary of places, those perfect raven locks thrown back as his emerald eyes darkened with lust and sweat trickled down that chiseled abdomen … _No! Bad Voldy! You will not perv on He-Who-Must-Die!_

"My Lord?"

Voldemort snapped back into the present, praying to no one that he hadn't spoken aloud again. No, they were merely waiting for his orders, as good minions should.

"Yes," he finally decided. "Go. Parley. Find out what he wants and return."

"My Lord?" Lucius spoke up. "What if it's a trap?"

"What if it's a twap?" Voldemort mocked in a baby voice. "Why must I constantly be surrounded by frickin' idiots? This is Potter, Dumb-Dumb's little golden boy. He wouldn't recognize a trap if a Mon Calamarian yelled it in his ear, and he certainly wouldn't be so cunning to devise one himself."

"I won't fail you, my Lord," Bella promised.

"Before you go –" He held out a rather worse for the wear stuffed bear. "Kiss Darth Teddy for luck."

She wrinkled her nose. "Must I, my Lord? Darth Teddy is –"

"Kiss Darth Teddy for luck!" Once she did so, grimacing, Voldemort turned to Draco, arms open. "And you, Draco: a hug for a job well done."

After what must be called the most awkward, extended hug ever, Draco and his aunt set off for the parley.

In the corner, a thoroughly sloshed Narcissa Malfoy looked up from her fifth Cosmopolitan. "I'm mildly interested," she mumbled.

* * *

"This is not parley!" Bellatrix screeched.

"It is if we say so," Tonks retorted, staring her down with an impish glint in her eyes. "Don't tell me Death Eaters follow the pirate code."

"The rules are simple," Harry began, striding back and forth. "The four of you in that pool. No wands. No magic. No morphing. The first to be ejected from the pool loses."

"This is common Muggle absurdity, and I won't have it!" Bellatrix shrieked, all but throwing a tantrum as she stamped her foot on the ground.

Harry turned stern. "It's either that, or I let you go play with my friend Eire." On cue, the dragon pacing outside snorted a stream of gray smoke at the window.

"Ugh. Fine," she ground out.

Handing her robes to Draco, who watched with a scowl, Bellatrix stepped into the tiny pool of red gelatin, facing Su, Tracy, and Tonks, all of whom wore wicked smiles and little else. And then the match was on. It took all of 36.57 seconds for Hermione and Ginny to excuse themselves with haste as the women wrestled. Remus had long since disappeared, muttering something about being the only person in the house who wasn't getting any, the twins were at the store, and if the remaining audience, composed entirely of teenage boys, shifted positions rather more frequently than usual, no one commented.

The match went on rather longer than Harry expected, and he began to think the boys weren't the only ones entertained. His wife was full-out grinning, and even Bellatrix had lost that look as if she smelled something particularly awful. With three against one, it wasn't really a contest, and eventually Bellatrix landed on her rear outside the pool, every contestant dripping with red gelatin.

"And we have a loser!" Harry declared. "Sorry, Bellatrix, looks like you're here to stay. No one can leave these wards without my permission."

"You won't get away with this, Potter," she warned, but he found her threat to be half-hearted.

"Whatever. Say, Neville, would you do me the favor of cleaning off our newest resident? I have my hands full with this sexy Metamorphmagus here, and it looks like your girls have it covered."

"Certainly."

Removing his shirt, Harry kept one eye on the pair as he wiped down his wife, though it was hard to concentrate. Just as they had planned, Bellatrix couldn't keep her eyes off Neville's newly toned body, senses already heightened by the aphrodisiac-laced gelatin. And when Su and Tracy began to assist, she all but moaned.

"Just a bit longer," Neville murmured, leaning in to lick a bit off her shoulder. She let out a wanton shudder. "Clyde?"

The house-elf appeared, clicking his fingers. A bright white light encased Bellatrix, and when it disappeared, she looked completely the same, down to the damp hair and lingering gelatin.

Neville nodded southward when she raised an eyebrow. "We all know what's been there. Now, why don't we finish this elsewhere?' He lightly ran his hands down her arms.

"Oh, yes," Bellatrix moaned, completely caught up. "Please, yes."

The pair disappeared, and Harry exchanged a satisfied smirk with his wife. _All is going to plan. As soon as she fully becomes, by her own admission, Neville's mistress, she'll be Voldy's no longer and that damn connection will be severed._

_About time, too, love. We still have 113 rooms to initiate. And thank Merlin's right nut that the War Room is out of the way. That table was not meant for that, and don't get me started on the little wooden figurines …_

_I couldn't help myself. You wore the red robes._

"It's really annoying when you do that, you know," Ron commented, eyeing the couple. "We can tell when you're talking."

"Rest assured we're not talking about you. Unless you have something to do with little wood …"

Ron's reply was interrupted by a start from Su and Tracy. "That's our cue," Tracy said, tapping her temple. "I think we can consider the seduction a success."

"That's it," said Dean when they departed to join Neville. "There's too many motherfucking soul bonds in this motherfucking house. Let's go try on new leather pants, Won-Won."

_Bella! What in the name of Salazar's sword are you doing with that boy! Bella! I command you to – oh! My eyes! My eyes! How could –_

"I'd say all is in hand here." Harry stood, taking Tonks's hand. "Where to?"

"We haven't visited the third floor library."

"Hermione would be scandalized."

"Don't be so sure about that."

"Stay here, Draco," Harry called over his shoulder as they slipped away. "Keep an eye on ... things."

And so it was that only Draco was left to hear the increasingly loud noises that came from the next room over, at least half of which were made by his insane aunt and should not turn him on at all. And therefore only Draco heard Neville's roar of triumph.

"WHO'S TORTURING WHO NOW, BITCH? I'M NEVILLE MOTHERFUCKING LONGBOTTOM!"


	16. Muster the DA!

**Like Juggling Snowballs through Hell**

The house elves had to do double time the next morning, as the amount of breakfast had to be tripled. This was partially due to the arrival of Neville and his harem, but mostly because everyone was experiencing "sex hunger". By the time Harry and Tonks got down to the main dining room, Dean and Ron were already there. The former of the two was shoveling pancakes into his mouth like he'd never seen food before, while Ron sat sipping his tea and looking politely smug over his mountain of doughnuts.

Ginny and Hermione walked in—well, technically Hermione waddled in—late and began demolishing plates of bacon and eggs.

Bellatrix limped in after Neville and the other two girls. She winced when she sat down, but clung tightly to his arm.

"Damn, Neville," Tonks quipped. "Handled your business…."

"Bitches can't handle what's in me, Australia to Sydney," he said, shrugging.

"Er…what?"

"Daddy Warbucks is in one of his moods," Tracy said. "Don't worry. It usually goes away in about an hour."

"Daddy Warbucks?" Ron and Dean asked.

"Don't tell us—we don't want to know," Ginny insisted. "Oh, Harry, I heard from Luna last night. She's up for any 'Voldemort is Going Down' plans we've got cooking. She just needs someone to pick her up."

"Can you take care of that, Neville?" Harry asked.

"Means I got to fly like a movie, no commercial," he said, nodding.

"Uh…okay. I have someone I need to visit today, so Tonks, Ron and Hermione are coming with me. Ginny, you and Dean are rounding up the rest of the DA, right? And by the way, we have got to pick a new name for ourselves…."

"I'm on it," she said. "So are we not going back to Hogwarts this year?"

"Oh, we're going back," Harry said, grinning evilly. "We just need a little bonding time away from teachers' eyes first."

"Got it."

"Remus, what are your plans for the day?" Harry asked.

"Vanillie's taking me chocolate shopping."

"Master Remus has a refined pallete, but he knows nothing of decent German chocolate," the elf said, refilling Dean's apple juice.

"Er…right. Let's get to it, then."

Everyone got up from the table, seemingly oblivious to the face that there were three people missing. Harry led them down a long winding staircase into a garage full of cars and motorbikes.

"Found it yesterday," he explained. "Keys are on the hook, Neville. Take what you want."

"Okay, now we out of here. Toodles to you bitches!" Neville said, starting the car. He drove straight towards the wall and disappeared from site.

Ginny kissed Hermione on the cheek and picked a neon blue motorbike. "Later."

Dean made an obscene gesture at Ron, who blushed, and took off on the neon green bike.

Once Harry and the others were in the car, Hermione finally asked, "Where are we going, Harry?"

"The Ministry," he said, passing a paper back to her.

"Dumbledore fights with Scrimgeour over The Chosen One," she read aloud.

"It aroused my curiosity. I figured we'd pay him a visit—see what else Dumbledore's keeping me from."

* * *

Draco awoke feeling well rested for once. He found tea and toast on his bedside table, but ignored it. Why wasn't Potter in here giving him some sort of inane assignment, or letting one of his mudblood friends degrade him in some way? He pulled a hoodie on over his pink pajamas (his loving cousin had insisted on pink) and wandered into the hallway. "Homenum revelio," he whispered, taking out his wand. It revealed two people in one of the rooms to his right, but no others. They'd left him alone for the day! Maybe he could hide, he thought, looking around quickly. This place was huge…it would take them days, maybe weeks to find him. He wouldn't have to be subjected to Thomas's "Disco Inferno" costume or Longbottom's sick fascination with velvet and lycra. He wouldn't have to address the Weasley girl as "Madame Ginevra, Descendant of Odin, Conquerer of Hoards, Tamer of Stallions, and Lover of Wenches". He sped up, intent on finding a room to hide in soon.

"I wonder where the little ferret is going, brother."

"I don't know. Perhaps he's thinking of leaving?"

"Without Harry's permission? Surely he can't be that dumb, Freddie."

Draco whipped round and saw the twins staring at him from a doorway. "What do you want?" he asked.

"Well he certainly woke up on the wrong side of the bed," George said. "Perhaps one of our toys would make him feel better."

"Couldn't agree more, brother," Fred said.

Draco raised his wand, but it was too late. He tried to glare at them as best he could through his full body bind….

* * *

"Why do people keep leaving me?" Voldemort wailed through choked sobs.

Lucius patted him on the back and wondered where Narcissa kept her emergency stash of absinthe.

"My Lord!" Rowle said, rushing in. "The Potter boy is headed towards the Ministry."

"With his entourage, I expect," Voldemort pouted.

"No, my Lord. My sources spotted another car with Long—with the fat boy," he corrected himself. The last time anyone had said "Longbottom", Voldemort had reduced them to a smoking puddle of sludge on the floor. "They seem to be headed to a residence."

"ATTACK!" the Dark Lord shouted. "Attack the fat, stupid one and his group while they are separate and weak. ATTACK FOR ALL YOU'RE WORTH! WE SHALL DEFEND OUR ISLAND, WHATEVER THE COST MAY BE. WE SHALL FIGHT ON THE BEACHES, WE SHALL FIGHT ON THE LANDING GROUNDS; WE SHALL—"

"My Lord!" Lucius said loudly. "We get it…."

"Er…right," Voldemort said. "Go now! Attack the fat one. And bring Bellatrix back alive."

* * *

"Fred? George?" Ginny called through the green flames.

"Lord Baron Potter Black's House of Free Love and Battle Training!" George answered chipperly.

"I'm sending the Creeveys and Katie Bell through….What's that bumping noise?"

"Fred's exercising," George said dismissively.

"What are the two of you up to?"

"Don't worry about it. Send the other three through."

"Fine. Just don't burn Harry's mansion down. Going to get Lavender and the Patils after this. Dean's grabbing Seamus right now."

"Oh, I bet he is…."

"George!"

* * *

Neville knocked on the door, and a moment later Luna stepped out.

"Ready to go, Neville?" she asked, but before he could answer, there was a commotion by the car. "Oh, dear…Death Eaters."

"They got they wands out aiming at me, but I become Neo when they aiming at me," Neville said, picking off the first three with ease. He ran out to the garden and started smiting the small faction of Voldemort's army. "I am not a word; I am not a line. I AM NOT A MAN WHO CAN EVER BE DEFINED!" he yelled, setting one Death Eater on fire. "I am not fly, I am levitation. I REPRESENT AN ENTIRE GENERATION!"

* * *

"Thank you for taking the time to see me, Minister. It's very nice to meet you," Harry said, shaking his hand.

"I must thank you, Mr. Potter. I was worried I'd never get to meet with you."

Harry opened his mouth to speak again, but there was a knock at the door.

Tonks poked her head in. "Er…sorry, Harry. Just got a Patronus from Luna. She says Death Eaters are attacking her house, but apparently Neville's got it under control. At least I think that's what his Patronus meant. His exact words were, 'Got this shit on lock.'"

"What is up with him today?" Harry mused.

"According to Sue Li, he gets like that whenever he's had really good sex. But usually it goes away by now."

"Why did I even ask? Send Ron to make sure everything's okay. Sorry Minister, where were we?"

"I have a proposition for you, Mr. Potter…."

* * *

Ron walked through the smoldering field, gazing horror-struck at the dead bodies. "Neville? Luna?"

"Morning Ron!"

"We become alive in a time of fear, and I ain't got no motherfucking time to spare…."

"Alright…let's get out of here. I think your concubines have all passed out from the sheer magnitude of your awesomeness."

Neville winked at him, offered Luna his arm, and led the way to the car.


	17. Albus Dumbledore: Pwnd

**Like Juggling Snowballs through Hell**

It was a fine summer's day in the Highlands of Scotland, as Albus Dumbledore walked out of the Hogwarts wards. The temperature, as it had been all summer, was unusually warm, and the midday sun felt just wonderful on his face compared to the dark, cold castle. He thought about the Wizengamot schedule for that day, which was blissfully light. There were two cases to be heard that session - nothing major, just a misuse of muggle artifacts case about an enchanted television remote control, and a dispute over property rights in Diagon Alley. Both of these cases were open-and-shut, and he thought afterwards he might head to the Leaky Cauldron for a bit of one of their fine cold soups while he was in England. He might even pay a visit to the Minister to see if some of the bad blood between them could be mollified; if he were to have any chance of restoring Harry to size, he would have to involve the Ministry. As he approached the gates, he looked up to see Fawkes gliding effortlessly overhead. There was not a cloud in the sky, and Albus thought that particularly apropos.

The Wizengamot was to convene at half past ten. By 10:25, Albus was in his seat at the Chief Warlock's bench taking a last look at the agenda for the day. At precisely 10:30, Albus banged his gavel on the bench to begin proceedings. Proceedings went quite smoothly, even if attendance was significantly down in the Proxy seats - those seats that by hereditary belong to an Ancient Family, but are administered by professional solicitors and the like. The man who created the disappearing Remote Control was asked to pay a fine, and the disputing Diagon Alley merchants agreed to binding arbitration to settle their case. Albus raised his gavel to close the session a blissful two hours early, but just as soon as he did that, the doors to the Wizengamot chambers banged open. Through those doors, much to Albus's dismay walked Harry Potter, flanked by Neville Longbottom, Nymphadora Tonks, Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, Fred and George Weasley, Su Li, Tracy Davis and, of all people, Bellatrix Lestrange. Albus began to grow concerned as the group confidently strode up to his bench. He would have to end this quickly.

"Mr Potter," Albus said. "This is a session of the Wizengamot. What business do you bring to this court?"

"Yo, seriously?" Neville exclaimed. "Trick, please. This is Lord Baron Harry Motherfucking Potter-Black. Better recognize."

"Is that nearly done, Neville? I thought that was just supposed to last a day.," Harry asked.

"Right. I'm trying to keep it under control, but my boo - er. Su, rather, just gave me a little taste in the floo over here."

Harry looked at the shy boy who'd lost his pet frog on the Hogwarts Express what now seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Floo head?" he asked him.

Neville smiled, and the boys exchanged high-fives.

"Gentlemen? If you're nearly done, it's more than past time you explain yourselves."

"Right," Harry said. "We're here to claim our seats on the Wizengamot. " Harry took a slender piece of wood from the pocket of his cloak and held it up to his throat, calling "_Sonorus. " _He then continued, "I, Lord-Baron Harry Potter-Black, Heir to Gryffindor, Baronet of Peverell, Noble of Chudley, do, by right, tradition and heredity, hereby claim my Wizengamot seats, Elder and otherwise, representing those five ancient families. You'll find the paperwork is in order, signed, as it is, by Kakhblok himself." The paperwork flew to Dumbeldore's bench, and as it did, Harry called out "_Quietus," _holding the stick out from him, opening his hand and letting it drop to the floor. Harry whirled his hands in the direction of his new seats, and the chairs representing those seats merged into one large setee. As this happened before his eyes, Harry walked over to the setee, took a look at the Chief Warlock, saying "What?" and sat down. Tonks joined him a moment later.

Neville next approached the bench. "I, Lord Neville Longbottom, do, by right, tradition and heredity, hereby claim the seat of Longbottom. I also - by conquest, bitches - claim the seat of Lestrange."

There was an audible gasp in the chamber. No one had claimed a seat by conquest since the 18th Century.

"Conquest, you say, Lord Longbottom?" Dumbledore asked.

"That's right."

"So, the brothers Lestrange are - ?"

"Mr. Lovegood is cleaning bits of them off the pathway to his house right now."

"And you and Bellatrix have...?"

"Until she couldn't fucking walk, B," Neville replied. Albus looked over at Bellatrix, who had a far-away, dreamy look on her face.

"Very well then, Lord Longbottom," Albus said, "Welcome to the Wizengamot. And to you," Albus said, grinding his molars as he did, "Lord-Baron Potter-Black. Welcome to the Wizengamot." Neville, Su, Tracy and Bellatrix walked over to the Longbottom seat, and as Neville sat, the three women took his cloak, goblet and walking stick. He tossed a salute Harry's way, which was returned.

Fred and George were next to approach the bench, which made Albus shudder, visibly.

"We," they began

"Fred"

"And George"

"Weasley,"

"do hereby by proxy"

"from Lord Weasley"

"claim our seat on the Wizengamot."

Albus began to rub his temples. "First of all, gentlemen, only one person can occupy a Wizengamot seat at a time."

"We have been," they replied,

"declared"

"legally"

"one person," and they sent paperwork to that effect flying toward the Chief Warlock's bench. Dumbledore growled a little, but continued.

"Yes, yes, very well, but didn't your family lose that seat in a gambling incident several centuries ago?"

"Lord," they replied

"Baron"

"Harry"

"Potter"

"Black"

"Paid for"

"The return"

"Of our"

"Family's"

"Lordship"

"And the seat"

"That goes with it."

Albus looked toward Harry's seat. Harry, arms crossed and feet up on the railing in front of his seat, gave him a wry smile and a nod of the head. Albus, in response, muttered "Welcome to the Wizengamot," as the twins walked over to their seat. As they were walking, however, Fred (or was it George?) took an object out of his pocket, tapped it with his wand, and threw it over his shoulder into the middle of the chamber. As soon as it hit the floor, it exploded with a small bang, and thick pink smoke quickly filled the room. There was a commotion, some screams, and some tripping over desks as people tried in vain to leave the magically sealed chamber. Ten seconds later, the smoke had cleared. Seven people were slumped over in their chairs, and above each of the dead men's heads was a pink lightning bolt that looked to be of the same material as the smoke.

"Oh, silly us, that wasn't a dungbomb at all," the twins said. "That was our new 'Kill All Deatheaters' bomb, instead. We get those mixed up all the time. Note to product team - make them distinguishable from dungbombs."

Before Albus could catch his breath to survey the damage, Clyde popped into the chamber, right onto the Chief Warlock's bench.

"I, Clyde, yadda yadda yadda - all four seats of the House of Malfoy, and the house's Lordship, by _conquest_."

"A house elf can't sit on the Wizengamot!" Albus said, quickly losing his decorum. "What the hell is that?"

Hermione, who'd been patiently waiting for the Chief Warlock to make an error in interpreting the law, answered quickly. "Actually, Chief Warlock, there's nothing in any law that says a house elf can't sit on the Wizengamot. Nor is there any law that says a house elf can't claim Conquest. Cite your sources when you say something like that, bitch." Ginny squealed a little as Hermione said this, and kissed her, deeply.

"Well maybe there should be," Albus replied. "All those in fa-"

Albus took a good look around the Wizengamot. Between the new claims and the dead Death Eaters, 24 seats of the now 45-member Wizengamot were held by either Potter, Longbottom, Weasley, or Potter's house elf.

"Crap," he said, and began to bang his head on the bench, softly. He then composed himself enough to continue.

"Clyde, is it? Clyde, I see a very dead Lord Malfoy at his seat; how were you involved?"

"I helped in the construction of that Kill All Deatheaters bomb, your Warlockness."

"And - oh, God. Narcissa?"

"Hell no," Clyde answered. Dumbledore exhaled in relief.

"But that Draco has the sweetest ass I've seen on a pureblood in a long time, _and _he could suck the polish off a wand, wipe his mouth and ask for seconds."

"Welcome to the Wizengamot," Dumbledore groaned, as he banged his head repeatedly on the Chief Warlock bench. He looked at his watch; there was still plenty of time for gazpacho.

"I believe that's quite enough excitement for one day. If there's no other business, shall - Yes, Lord-Baron Harry Potter-Black?"

Harry stood up and cleared his throat.

"I would like to introduce to this august body bill 1996-42-19, the Protect Britain's Children bill. As a child myself, I know the pain caused by finding out that those adults in whom you've placed your trust do not have your best interests at heart. To protect other children from this fate, my bill would magically and automatically bar anyone convicted of a crime against a minor from working at Hogwarts. If my colleagues have any questions, I would invite them to ask my solicitor, Ms. Granger, who authored this bill."

Albus smiled. He was happy that, while without any concept of decorum, it seemed Messrs Potter, Longbottom and Weasley were taking their new positions seriously. As for the bill at hand, Albus was confident. Potter had had a long running feud with Professor Snape, and this was simply the latest salvo in that struggle. But Harry had made one crucial error. While there were enough votes in Harry's bloc to bring Severus to trial, by raising the punishment with this bill, it would take a 2/3rds majority to convict a wizard of a crime against a child. Harry was quite the bright young wizard, but this time he was playing a bit out of his league. Albus thought it prudent to teach Harry a lesson by allowing the bill to go through, even though there were undoubtedly procedural problems with the language.

"Ms. Granger," Albus asked, "Do I understand this correctly: a witch or wizard must be convicted of a crime against a minor to be barred from employment at Hogwarts? Not merely charged?"

"Yes, Chief Warlock. That is correct."

Dumbledore smiled. This was too easy.

"Very well. Wizengamot, if there are no further questions, what say you?"

By smiling, Dumbledore had signalled to the six proxy holders who were financial backers of the Order that they were to vote Yes on this subject. When the votes were taken, the Ayes were nearly unanimous, as no one wanted to be seen opposing both Dumbledore and Harry Potter. This more than covered the 3/4ths majority needed to bring about a new law.

"Excellent," Dumbledore said, smiling broadly. "Very well done, Lord Baron. I suspect you will be quite an asset to our body. Now, if there is no other business - Yes, Lord Longbottom?"

"Yo. I'mma - Excuse me. I mean, I would like to formally charge Chief Warlock Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore with child endangerment, embezzlement from a minor, false imprisonment of a minor..."

The trial went about as well as one would have expected. Harry's bloc had far more than the 1/3rd necessary to bring a suspect to trial, and once the trial began, the next highest ranking Wizengamot member (surprise, surprise, that was Harry) stood in for Albus, as he obviously couldn't judge his own trial. Harry's largesse had bought testimony from not only Remus and Mrs. Figg, but also Kakhblok, Molly Weasley (who was paid double her expected bride-price as an appearance fee), Arthur Weasley, Madame Malkin, and Stan Shunpike. After an hour of constant hammering on the themes of "what the hell was he thinking" and "that lying, lying bastard," expertly drawn out of the witnesses by Hermione, Albus's only defense was to mutter "Honest, I meant well," and slink off to the defendants' cell. Harry read out the verdict.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, you have been charged with several offenses. The Wizengamot has heard your testimony, and finds you guilty on all charges. You are hereby stripped of your positions of Headmaster of the Hogwarts School, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and Supreme Mugwump of the International Council of Wizards. Your Gringotts account has been drained of all embezzled funds, as well as a statutory 85,000 Galleons in fines. You are sentenced to no more than six months confinement at Azkaban prison. And may the Gods have mercy on your soul."

Albus Dumbledore did not get to taste the gazpacho at the Leaky Cauldron that day. Nor did he taste their cold cucumber soup. But he was afforded one last view of that beautiful, sunny day as he was being led to the Azkaban portkey.

* * *

Harry threw a massive celebration when he returned to Gryffindor Sound. The entire D.A., which Harry had renamed B.A. (he wouldn't tell anyone how he picked those letters or what they stood for, but Hermione knew they stood for Bosco Albert) showed up, along with several of their Hogwarts contemporaries. As Harry was recounting the tale, one arm around Tonks's waist, using a pensieve to capture the various looks of shock and awe on Dumbledore's face, he was asked how he came up with such a cunning plan to get rid of Dumbledore meddling in his life.

"I didn't, actually. I mostly sat there and looked pretty whilst Tonks, Hermione and Minister Scrimgeour sussed out the details. I think I got them a fresh pot of tea at one point, but mostly I just played my part, and I had Tonks's soul bond in my head if I ever forgot which part came next. Dead useful, those soul bonds, aren't they, Tonksy-wonksy?"

"Dead useful indeed, sugar-britches," Tonks replied. They looked at each other a moment, smiled wickedly, and blushed.

The party wound down about half 2, as Harry had invited all of his guests to stay for breakfast, which would also serve as Draco's first meal cooking at Gryffindor Sound. As most guests were passing out or pairing off, Harry and Tonks found Neville, Su and Tracy looking a little forlorn.

"Lord Longbottom, my man. How's tricks, playboy?" Tonks asked.

"She's dead, actually. We forgot about the "Kill All Deatheaters" bomb when we said she could come along."

"She's - oh, you thought I meant Trix. No, oh, I'm sorry. You'd just broken her in, too. Well, I guess that's just more attention for these two, huh?"

The three of them nodded, sadly. "Yeah, but we were getting kinda used to having a third girl in the mix. There's really only so Longbottom much these two can handle. We're actually going to talk to your aunt Narcissa, now that Lucius is dead."

"Oh? You know she's a bit of a lush, right?"

"Well, sure," Neville said, "but she's a right looker, got that hot mum thing working. Plus, after a taste of her sister, I'm hooked."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry, who was by this time quite interested.

"Oh, you know what they say, right? Once you go Black..."


	18. Naughty Thoughts and Betrayal

**Like Juggling Snowballs through Hell**

"Hermione?"

"Underage, and not emancipated like you and Neville."

"Hmm. So that rules out Ron and Ginny as well?"

"Right. Oh, harder, right there."

"Remus?"

"Definitely."

"Mad-Eye?"

"Sounds good. Ah, yes, that feels great. Merlin, you have nice hands."

"But who else?"

"I don't know, but if you could move slightly to the right …"

"It has to be someone that gets on well with you, me, Remus, and Mad-Eye."

"Obviously."

"You aren't being very helpful."

"I can barely talk when you're touching me like that, much less think."

"You love it."

"Mmm-hmm."

Suddenly Harry sat straight up. "Your mother."

Tonks rolled over, offended. "_Your_ mother."

"No, let's give one of our Wizengamot seats to your mother. It would be perfect – she'll know all those really old pureblood laws."

"Not to mention a nice gift from her new son-in-law. And they have been on my case about meeting you."

"Exactly. Hello, I'm Harry Potter, Lord-Baron badass, the fifteen-year-old who accidentally married your daughter and formed a soul-bond with her. Nice to meet you. Oh by the way, have a seat on the Wizengamot."

Tonks burst out laughing. "Sounds lovely."

"Think she'd do it?"

"Probably. Now come back. I've this kink on my left shoulder blade you haven't worked out yet."

* * *

"I must say, this is certainly a nice spread," said Ted Tonks, craning his neck to look up at Eire. "And a very, er, large dragon."

"Dad, I think it's inappropriate to make comments about the size of my husband's dragon."

"_Nymphadora_!"

"I believe that's Lady-Baroness Potter-Black, Mum."

Andromeda Tonks leveled her gaze at her daughter. "You are enjoying this far too much, aren't you?"

"You always did want me to be a proper lady," Tonks replied sweetly, twitching all of a sudden.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked.

"Fine," she replied, giving him a hard look.

Harry led them indoors to the dining room, where Millie had laid out a lunch for them on one corner of the Quidditch pitch-sized table. Once everyone was thoroughly sated and served plates of treacle tart by Malfoy (which earned a strange look from Andromeda), he cleared his throat.

"Before I say anything else, I want to apologize for the death of your sister. It was an accident, if you can believe that."

"Bitch got what she deserved," muttered Andromeda. "What? Don't look at me that way."

Shaking his head as if to clear it, Ted looked confused. "It was an accident, you say?"

"Yes, she wasn't actually the target."

"Lots of accidents around here, are there? Accidental deaths, accidental marriages …"

"So long as there aren't any more 'accidents' for a while," said Andromeda, with a significant look at her daughter's stomach.

Tonks scoffed. "Me? A mother? In the middle of a war? When I've only just gotten married? That's a horrible idea." She began to laugh but stopped halfway with a squeak, glaring at Harry.

He maintained an innocent expression. "Anyway, if it makes you feel better, Andromeda, Bellatrix was on our side in the end."

"Really? By her own admission?"

"Not to begin with, but by the end she was literally begging for it," said Tonks with a wicked grin.

"I'm not sure I want to know what goes on in this house," remarked Ted.

"Probably not," agreed Harry, grateful for an easygoing father-in-law. "Now let's get down to business, shall we? As you already know, I received a rather large inheritance from your cousin Sirius, including his title and holdings. However, I also came into my inheritance from my parents, and among many, many things, I now control five seats on the Wizengamot. If you're willing, I'd like you, Andromeda, to take one of those seats."

There was a moment of silence, broken only by another gasp and twitch from Tonks with no explanation. Finally Andromeda spoke. "I'd be honored, Lord-Ba-, ah, Harry."

"Great now that that's settled I have to go to the loo!" a red-faced Tonks practically shouted, flying from the room.

Ted watched her leave, scratching his head. "Dora's acting a bit off-kilter today, isn't she?"

"Couldn't say," Harry said, shrugging, though he was a bit flushed himself. "So the Wizengamot meets every – _oh._" He swallowed visibly, hands clenching the armrests of his chair. "On second thought, perhaps we can discuss this later. I don't think the – ah – food is sitting right with me. Would you excuse me?"

Summoning Vanillie to show his bemused in-laws their room, Harry could barely wait until they were out of sight before shooting out of the room himself, using their bond to hone in on his wife's location.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded when he spotted her emerging from a bathroom with a satisfied smirk.

"Me?" she countered. "You were the one sending me all sorts of naughty images all afternoon in front of my parents. I was merely relieving the pressure."

With a snap of his fingers, the entire corridor was blocked off and silenced. "Now I have something that needs to be relieved," he growled.

Tonks walked toward him with a rather naughty expression. "Suppose I can give you a hand there."

"Just a hand?"

"Perhaps more." She began to nibble at his earlobe. "But Harry? If you pull a stunt like that again with my parents around, I'll shove my wand so far up this cute arse of yours you'll be spitting splinters for a week. Unless you'd like that …"

"I think not."

Harry grabbed her arms, pulling her in for a searing kiss. They stumbled backward, kissing and groping recklessly, until he felt the wall at his back. The expected painful thud against the paneled wall didn't come, however, and they parted with a shout as the wall moved aside and Harry and Tonks tumbled into a dark abyss.

Harry was eerily reminded of the Chamber of Secrets as they slid down a tunnel of black, eventually emerging into a massive chamber the size of the Great Hall. He blinked and rubbed his eyes several times before he was aware of what he was seeing.

Laid out before him was an array the likes of which he'd never seen. Mountains of goblin-made battle helmets and armor. Hills of dragon-skin coats and boots. Heaps of shiny swords, daggers, scimitars, rapiers, bows, and even a few deadly-looking axes.

"Bugger me stupid," Tonks whispered in awe.

"In a minute," he replied absently, still gazing at what was apparently yet another hidden part of his inheritance.

"I think we landed in the armory of Isengard."

He finally tore his gaze away from the glistening weaponry. "What's tha- oh my God!"

"What?"

He couldn't stop gawking long enough to form an intelligent sentence. "Nymphadora, you're – you – I – Merlin!"

"Okay, you're freaking me out." Tonks grabbed a nearby breastplate and held it up to her face. "Ah. Merlin's saggy tits, those must be some bloody powerful anti-thievery wards." Dropping the breastplate which landed with a clang on a gauntlet, she glanced at Harry with an oddly vulnerable expression. "Harry, this is my natural form."

"Oh."

"Whatever wards we passed through must have been designed to eliminate any tricks or disguises, including morphs. So, here I am."

Harry continued to stare. Tonks was more stunning than a veela. Long, shiny blonde hair framed a pale face with wide blue eyes. His gaze traveled down her petite yet shapely body, resting for a long moment on her large breasts. "Wow," he finally mumbled.

"Yeah?" She looked self-conscious, a completely uncharacteristic reaction.

"I've never seen anyone more beautiful. I don't know why you change a thing."

To his surprise, her eyes glistened with tears. "Do you truly mean that, Harry?"

"Of course I do. Have you seen yourself?"

She flung herself in his arms, kissing his cheek. "No one has ever told me that. Every other man I've dated always asked me to change something."

"I think you're perfect. You should walk around all day like that. Honestly, why do you morph?"

It appeared as if she'd never considered the idea. "Because I can?" she offered weakly.

"Bit unfair, though," he offered, wrapping one arm around her shoulders as they began to walk amongst the contents of the armory.

"What's that?"

"That the one person who could make herself look amazing with merely a thought was already born that way."

"I know, right?" she agreed. "But now you're making me blush. Harry, what the hell are we going to do with all this stuff? You could fight a war in here!"

Harry glanced around with a gleam in his eye. The same gleam that had fought a basilisk, dueled Lord Voldemort, stood up to Dolores Umbridge, and sent Albus Dumbledore to Azkaban.

"That, my dear wife, is exactly what we're going to do."

* * *

Harry was beginning to think that the War Room was able to magically expand at will, for they had assembled the entire BA and Order of the Phoenix and yet there was room to spare. Everyone had received the news of their discovery with glee, eager to, as Ginny said, "put it to the man."

"If I could have everyone's attention," Harry began, standing at the head of the war table. "It's time to put our words into action. Neville?"

"Yo."

"You have a plan to bring Narcissa Malfoy into the fold, further weakening the Dark Tosser's base of support?"

"Word."

"Excellent."

Tonks spoke up. "And I just want to say that I really dig your new accoutrement, Nev."

"What, this old thing?" Neville held it up for inspection. "Oh, that's just Lucius Malfoy's pimp cane. I claimed it when no one was looking at the Wizengamot. Useful for keeping wenches in hand." On either side, Su and Tracy licked their lips, brushing Neville's hair and rubbing his shoulders.

Down the row, Hannah Abbot, Harry's Hufflepuff classmate and BA member, looked on with interest. Noticing her attention, Neville winked. "How you doin'?"

She blushed, and Seamus Finnegan, one of Harry's roommates, seemed impressed, whistling. "Damn, Neville, puberty has been good to you."

He shrugged. "Everyday I'm shufflin'."

"What does that mean?" Tonks whispered to Harry.

"I haven't understood anything he's said since Bellatrix screamed his name." Harry cleared his throat. "Moving on … we all agree that it's time – Fred, George, could you stop, please?"

The twins were juggling a few of their 'Kill All Death Eaters' bombs, tossing them back and forth.

"What do –"

"you mean"

"stop?"

"We're almost –"

"at our"

"record."

"If they kill all Death Eaters, why can't we just smuggle one into a meeting?" Ron asked. "Booby trap Malfoy and send him."

"No one is touching Draco!" Clyde insisted. "My bitch, he is."

"That's not –"

"a bad"

"idea, little"

"bro."

"That's it, knock it off," said Bill. "Bloody annoying."

"Almost –"

"there. Just –"

"one mo- oh shit!"

One more was one too many, and the bombs scattered out of control. The bouncing was apparently too much for the fragile bombs, and they began to explode, setting off a chain reaction that engulfed the room in smoke. No one was too bothered, knowing they were safe, and when the pink smoke finally cleared, all were ready to resume business.

Ready, that is, until they noticed the lone body on the floor.


	19. I'm On A Boat!

**Like Juggling Snowballs through Hell**

"What the hell?"

"Told you we couldn't trust her."

"Cho was a Death Eater?"

The group was quiet for a moment while Harry went over and looked down at his ex-girlfriend. "Er…guys…she doesn't have a Dark Mark. And she's grown a blue beard."

"Really?" George said. "Well—"

"It looks like—"

"Our modifications—"

"Worked out."

"Explain, please," Neville said.

"Oh, thank Merlin, you're back to normal," Hermione muttered.

"We've been—"

"In the process—"

"FOR THE LOVE OF ROWENA AND HELGA'S LOST SEX MANUALS!" Moody roared. "ONE OF YOU CAN EXPLAIN JUST FINE!"

"Goodness," Fred said, affronted.

"Fine," George agreed. "As we were trying to explain…we've been in the process of smoking out not only Death Eaters, but people who'll get in the way of Harry's inevitable vanquishing of the Dark Tosser."

"That in mind," Fred continued. "We thought about possibilities, and came to the conclusion that Dumblewumbles, whilst still incarcerated, likes to have spies. Thus, we made a modification to the…er…product, that would allow us to figure out where certain persons were on the grand scale of the wizarding war. She's not quite dead."

"She'll be right as rain in no time. Possibly a little disoriented…we hadn't actually tried these out on anyone except Malfoy."

The pale boy flinched at the memory of being the twins' guinea pig.

"We'll just leave her there for now, I guess," Harry said. "Now, Tonks and I found a shit ton of armor and weapons and stuff that looks good for smiting. I don't particularly fancy having my house burned to the ground, so we're going to use the field across the loch for battle training. Now, I haven't actually explored over there, so a few of us will have to ride Eire over and make sure my parents weren't breeding Inferi or anything."

The group chuckled at this. Neville raised a hand that seemed to be obtaining more rings by the hour.

"Yeah, Neville?"

"I see a few apprehensive faces. We don't have to take Eire." He went over to the window that looked out over the water. "Your parents left you cars and bikes. Mine left me," he swung his wand like a lasso, "A boat."

A beautiful gold, white and silver yacht came up out of the water. The rest of the BA and the Order stood open mouthed.

"I'm pretty sure our estates are connected, Harry," Neville explained. "Mine's nowhere near as big, but it has some of the same features. And we have a lake as well."

"Brilliant!" Harry yelled. "We can fight on two fronts, if need be."

"Damn skippy," Neville said, smiling.

"We'll go over tomorrow. Today—" Harry stopped as the group turned back to where Cho was lying.

She groaned and rolled over. A second later, Ginny had helped (read: dragged) her into a chair. "Wha?" she mumbled.

"Millie?" Harry called.

"Sir's Veritaserum," the house elf said, leaving as quickly as she came.

"How does she do that?" Ron muttered.

"Are you really Cho Chang?" Harry asked after Remus gave her the potion.

"Yes."

"Are you spying for Dumbledore?"

At this, the Ravenclaw became more coherent. "Yes."

"What did he ask you to do?"

"To report to him with what you were planning. To try and win you over with my womanly ways. To seduce you and weaken you with sex so that you'd follow me to hell and back."

"Dumbledore said this to a sixteen year old girl?" Remus asked, thoroughly squicked.

"Yes," Cho answered.

"Fucking yuck," Draco muttered. Everyone looked at him. "What?"

"Anyway," Harry said through gritted teeth. "Have you reported back to him?"

"Not yet," Cho said.

"Good."

Just then, Cho rolled sideways and snatched her wand back from Luna. Unfortunately for her, the grogginess hadn't quite worn off yet, and she stumbled around a bit.

Tonks went to grab her wand, but ended up in front of Cho's mumbled spell. She toppled backward.

"What the fuck was that?" Harry asked, disarming the girl.

"Er…" Arthur said, smiling. "I think she mixed up two spells in her…confused condition."

"Which ones?" Harry asked, alarmed.

"The one to make the person sing everything. And the second…er…gives you…feelings," he explained, nodding downward.

"Oh, god, Dad!" Ginny said, going pale.

"Quiet, young lady," Arthur said. "You and Hermione have been doing things that would make Kalkin the Lecher blush. I don't want to hear it."

"Who's—?"

"Kalkin the Lecher is the wizard who invented contraceptive spells," Hermione said quickly. She blushed.

Katie and Angelina looked over like they were seeing the pair in a brand new light.

Harry helped Tonks to her feet. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Harry…" she said slowly.

"I think now would probably be a good time to adjourn this meeting," Ted said, trying not to laugh.

"I can show you the world," Tonks sang. "Shining, shimmering, splendid." She stuck her hand down his pants.

He squeaked.

"Oh for the love of…." Draco grumbled as his cousin kept singing.

"As curious as I am to know whether or not my daughter can beat the Black family record for hand jobs…I'd rather not see it happen," Andromeda said. "Let's leave them to it."

"ON A MAGIC CARPET RIIIIIDE!" Tonks shot a spell at one of the hanging rugs. It flew over and she pulled Harry on with her. They shot out of the now open window. "A WHOLE NEW WOOOOOOOORLD!"

"Now we have to deal with two of them," Ginny commented.

"Hey, I'm cured…for now," Neville said. "What's this about a Black family record?" he asked Andromeda.

* * *

The spell had worn off by the morning. Harry and Tonks were surprised to find Andromeda down at breakfast first. "Morning, ma'am," he said quietly. What do you say to a woman who knows you've spent the night shagging her daughter into the next space-time continuum?

"Morning, Harry darling!" Andromeda said. "You must try the scones. Clyde is an absolute artist."

"Clyde likes the older Tonks very much," the house elf said in reply to the compliment.

One by one, the rest of the house made it down to breakfast. Tillie, who was now Cho's official babysitter, brought her down with Draco. It was a few minutes before anyone noticed that there were a couple of people missing.

"Oi, where are Neville and Mr. Tonks?" Dean asked.

"I'm sure they'll be down in a minute," Andromeda said soothingly.

Tonks looked across the table to her mother. "Mummy, what did you do?"

"Probably nothing you're not already doing as well…."

At that moment, Neville stumbled down the stairs looking absolutely _wrecked_. He was pale, his hair was a mess, and for the first time in weeks he actually looked like a teenage boy—rather than a leopard print-loving feudal lord. He walked into a wall before stumbling over to his seat on Harry's right. "Er…" he croaked. "Morning."

Ted Tonks came down a second later, looking slightly more put together. Slightly.

"WAIT A SECOND!" Harry yelped.

"You and Dad double teamed Neville?" Tonks asked.

Andromeda just smiled and sipped her coffee. "You young ones may think you've got style in the bedroom, but you've got nothing on the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."

As though triggered by a particularly strong memory of the night before, Neville gasped, shivered and passed out.

"Well, damn," Dean said, impressed. "Ronnie," he whinged.

"No, love bug. I'm not getting you a cougar for your birthday."

"Why would Dean want a jungle cat?" Cho spoke up.

"No, it's a term for a woman who dates significantly younger men," Luna explained.

Neville had come around by this point and crawled back into the chair by this point. "It's hard out here for a pimp," he croaked.

"FUCK, not again!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Didn't know you swung both ways, Longbottom," Angelina said, grinning.

"It's not gay, if it's in a three-way. It's okay, if it's in a three-way. With a honey in the middle, there's some leeway," Neville muttered into his porridge.

"Er…what's going on?" Colin Creevey asked.

"You'll get used to it," everyone else said.

"Let's go you guys," Hermione said. "We're running behind on exploring, and Remus said he was going to give us Animagus lessons today."

Everyone piled out of the back door a few minutes later, and started walking towards Neville's boat.

Draco held back. "I should go report. Someone needs to take me out of the boundaries."

"Why?" Harry asked, putting on Neville's extra captain's hat.

"I haven't in a while…the Dark Lord will think I have defected!"

"Well you have, you prat," Ginny said, stripping down to her bikini. "I didn't see you keel over when Fred and George dropped their Death Eater balls…."

"Glad we didn't put you in charge of marketing," Fred muttered.

Neville came over to the railing and called down to Draco. "How you gon' take this? Like a man or a bitch? You gon' get it on, playa, or you gon' snitch?"

Draco smirked, rolled his eyes, and climbed aboard.

They began to jet across the water. Neville pulled Colin aside and said, "Take a picture, trick! I'm on a boat, bitch!" He threw up a gang sign as Colin snapped pictures.

It took about fifteen minutes to reach the other side of the loch. They found nothing dangerous there, and decided that it would be a good space for battle practice.

"That's going to have to be some fast-ass practice," Seamus said. "We've only got two weeks until we're back at Hogwarts."

"Don't worry," Harry said. "We've got some options in the works for a new Headmistress, and I have a feeling Gryffindor Sound is about to become the fifth Hogwarts house. I like the name Pottermore house, but I've been trying to work Neville's name in too."

"Please," Cho scoffed. "Dumbledore will never let you…." she trailed off, looking around frantically.

"What won't he let us do?" Harry asked calmly. "I don't see what he could do, since he's locked up in Azkaban, right? Right, Cho?"

Her silence was all the answer they needed.

"We should have expected this," Arthur said.

"It's the money that makes shit get ugly. It's the money that makes playas wanna slug me," Neville said.

"Neville's right," Hermione started. "Dumbledore probably paid his way out as soon as he figured we weren't paying attention to him. That's how he got Her Royal Bitchness over there to spy on us."

Harry grumbled to himself for a moment. "There's nothing we can do about it now," he said finally. "Remus, let's get started with those lessons."

* * *

_**LbN: For anyone wondering, Neville is half Lonely Island and half 50 Cent in this chapter. In my last chapter he was 95% Nicki Minaj and 5% Drake. :)**_


	20. Oops?

For the first time in he didn't remember how long, Draco felt a measure of peace. As he listened to his former DADA professor drone on about the serious business that was Animagus transformation, he realized that this peace had been found whilst sitting among Potter and what had been the DA; people who up until then he'd considered his mortal enemies. People of which his father would certainly never approve. People whose life's mission was to stamp out everything he thought he'd held as a cherished belief: order, purity, hierarchy. Yet, as he sat in the meadow on the other side of the lake from Gryffindor Sound, it occurred to him that the way the last few weeks had sorted themselves out had, on balance, been for the best. Sure, he was the love-slave of a nearly three-legged house elf. His father was dead, he had to cook and clean for a house full of mudbloods and blood-traitors, but at least he wasn't in constant danger of the Cruciatus. And, it seemed as though he was close to being accepted in the strange amalgam of people that had gathered at Potter's home. For the first time since he entered Hogwarts, Draco truly felt as though he was a part of something; not the leader, not a special case, just one among many.

The animagus lesson was fascinating. Remus started, as all good magic teachers ought, with theory, but didn't linger too long there in some pedagogical self-abuse, the way McGonagal was prone to do. Rather, once the basics were taught, he quickly moved into the practical part of the lesson. The students were to ingest three one-dram measures of a potion, separated by thirteen seconds, and then meditate on the animal that appeared first in their mind's eye. Draco was crushed, of course, that the animal that appeared for him was a ferret, but as he'd been forcibly transformed into one earlier, he reckoned he wasn't going to have much of a choice.

All in all, though, he could have come out in worse shape. When 45 minutes of meditation had ended, the group shared the animals into which they'd transform, and compared to Su (a trout) and Colin (a donkey), he didn't have it all that bad. Of course, compared to Hermione (a rabbit), Michael Corner (a hawk) and Harry (a flying unicorn that could use its horn as a wand) he'd gotten quite the short end of the stick. He took the inevitable ribbing gracefully, and was pleased that it seemed to be good-natured.

Remus then proceeded to walk the DA through the steps to making that animal come to life. It was much easier than one would have imagined; one simply needed to supplement tactile visualizations for the more ordinary kind, and turn the knob, if you will, up to 11. Draco began to feel his arms and legs get shorter, his face longer, his body hairier. His senses began to heighten, and the world around him grew very tall, very quickly. He scurried to a bush, which provided him some cover. The menagerie forming around him was amazing - he wondered if there had ever been such a gathering of animagi in history. He saw Ginny Weasley (a house cat) sunning herself on a rock, and thought that looked a capital idea. Ginny was friendly enough, too, scooting over to allow Draco room, and even giving him a gentle nuzzle of affection after he'd finally climbed up there with his still-unfamiliar stubby legs. Draco took the time to follow Remus's advice about noticing every muscle, ligament, bone and hair in his new body. He had just finished stretching out the muscles in his right hind leg when he noticed Ginny jump down from the rock and head for some shade. Draco was pleased, because it allowed him more room to stretch out his tightly-clenched spine for examination. The next thing he noticed was a shadow flickering over him every few seconds. He looked up and saw Michael Corner circling overhead. Draco squeaked a salutation and returned to his exercises, only to feel a swift jerk moments later, not unlike apparition, and he found himself forty metres high and climbing quickly. He squeaked a note of surprise, and then began to squeal as he realized what was happening. Remus had mentioned that if an animagus spends too much time reveling in the heightened sensual information, he could very easily temporarily lose his humanity, and begin to act instinctively as the animal. Draco began to squeak loudly, hoping to rouse Michael from his reverie. He thought he'd achieved this as Michael began to coast on an airstream, but as Michael's head turned toward Draco and his beak opened, Draco realized he hadn't stopped him at all.

* * *

"Fuck, I'm sorry guys, I just got a bit into it is all," was Michael's apology upon coming to and seeing a half-digested ferret skeleton at his feet.

"Dude, you ate Draco," was Harry's admonishment. "And you almost ate Ginny."

"Nah, that was last year," Michael replied. "Besides, that's Hermione's gig now."

Ron smacked Michael across the back of his head. "No, you pillock. Ginny was the cat that was lounging next to Draco as you flew overhead. She just had the good sense to get out of the way before you came."

"Yeah, that's her alright. Wait, what were we talking about?" Ron smacked the back of his head again.

"It's okay, Michael," Harry reassured him. "No big loss. But you're really going to have to apologize to Clyde. Speaking of which, where are we going to find another snooty ex-Death Eater to turn into our personal butt-monkey and- Yes, Tilly?"

"Begging your Harryness's pardon, but there's a Miss Narcissa Black at the door, saying she wants to invoke something called Privilege of Legacy in order to secure sanctuary. May I let her in?"

Harry and Neville shared a high-five. "Let Miss Black know that I'll be right there," Harry responded.


	21. There's the Monkey!

**Like Juggling Snowballs through Hell**

"Do I _have_ to?"

Tonks lifted her head from her steaming mug of coffee. "Seriously? You're a thoroughly-devirginized, married, battle-tested Lord of five Houses, and yet you can still whinge like a fifteen-year-old boy."

"I am one."

"Pardon me, Master Harry," squeaked a high-pitched voice as Millie carried a tray of baked beans and toast to the table. "But Master is being sixteen now."

"Right, that's right." Harry shared a grin with his wife. "Merlin's favorite g-string, what _did_ we do last night?"

"It's not every day you turn sixteen. I wanted to give you a party to remember."

"If only we could remember. What did you call those again? Jello shots?"

She looked particularly pleased with herself. "Yeah. And didn't I tell you to stay away from the orange ones? I figured what worked for one Black would work for another, but had it not been for Ginny's timely intervention, I might have lost you to Neville forever."

"No worries there," Harry reassured her. "But too bad no one thought to warn your mother."

Tonks grimaced, coughing. "Yes, the less I think about that, the better. But in the end Dad smoothed everything over, Neville has a new MILF in Narcissa, and we celebrated your birthday properly."

"I'll say. Especially after you invited half your former classmates," Charlie Weasley said, sauntering into the kitchen, shirtless, followed by Oliver Wood, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson. "Been too long since I've been awakened by a slurring honey badger at one A.M. calling me 'Chuck' and asking me to come out to 'play-ay.'"

"No one ever thinks to take my wand away," Tonks said with a shrug. "I can't help it if I'm a drunk Patronuser."

"Master Harry?" Tillie appeared behind a tousle-haired Seamus Finnegan, who turned bright red when he saw Alicia. "What is sir wanting to do with his monkey?"

"My monkey?" Harry repeated blankly.

"We have a monkey?" Tonks was inordinately excited. "Wicked."

"Where did a monkey come from?"

Tillie shook her head. "Tillie is not knowing. Tillie only knows there is one. Stealing Tillie's cigarettes, it is."

"Well, just put it … Hell, I don't know. Give it to Clyde. He's been writing horrible emo poetry ever since the Draco incident, he needs a distraction. Does anyone know where we got a bloody monkey?" All he received were blank stares. "Chalk that one up to the missing night, then."

"And if that's settled," Tonks said, consulting her watch. "You have to go."

"But it's so boring," Harry complained. With a roll of her eyes, Tonks took on a look of concentration, and a moment later Harry brightened. "Really? There?"

"Only if you go. Remus is waiting."

Harry wasted no more time, spinning on his heel and heading out. The last voice he heard from the kitchen was his wife.

"Okay, can anyone tell me how I have a mermaid tattooed on my arse?"

* * *

"… And that concludes your financial state as of today," Griphook finished, rolling up a scroll of parchment.

"Yes, yes, I'm filthy rich," Harry muttered, bored beyond belief. These frequent meetings to keep him advised of changes to his fortune and his investments were the worst part of being a powerfully wealthy Lord-Baron. Hermione had originally promised to act as his financial liaison with the goblins. That promise lasted until she encountered the numerous libraries at Gryffindor Sound; had it not been for Ginny, she probably wouldn't emerge for anything but meals. He had kept himself entertained during this one by mental conversations with Tonks, but she was working and threatened to renege on her earlier promise if he didn't stop giving her mental images best suited for Playwizard magazine.

Remus frowned at him. "Any changes you'd like to make, Prongslet? Invest in a new company, perhaps?"

"No, all I want to do is – wait." A stray memory tugged at him, a vow he'd made returning to the forefront of his mind. He had been so busy with smiting and marrying and dragon-riding and just plain sex that he had forgotten all about it. "No. What I would like to do is make some changes to a company I already have. Griphook, do you remember when I asked Kahkblok to secure a seat for me on the board of Grunnings?"

"Indeed."

"Has he done so?"

The goblin flipped through a large ledger. "No, but as majority shareholder you retain the right to call a board meeting at any time."

"Let's do that, then."

Remus looked wary. "What are you planning, Harry?"

"Nothing at all, Remus." Harry put on his calmest, most innocent face, but nothing could tame the wicked gleam in his green eyes. "Just a little visit with my family."

* * *

_One week later …_

"I will NOT!"

Harry reflected that if Uncle Vernon tore any more hair out of his mustache, he was going to bear a remarkable similarity to a certain German fascist dictator. "You really don't have a choice."

"I ruddy well have a CHOICE!" Uncle Vernon roared, his face turning the same purple shade that Harry had seen on Tonks the first time they met. "You listen to me, boy. We took you in, we fed you, we clothed you, and I won't –"

Without moving a muscle Harry had his three relatives silenced and glued to the sofa. "Let me just clear up a few things, Vernon. Oh, by the way, I can do magic out of school now, and I don't even need a wand. That's just one of a few changes that have taken place in my life since we last saw each other. I'll sum them up for you. I've been emancipated, married a hot piece of ass –"

"That would be me," Tonks volunteered from her perch against the windowsill. Dudley took one look and immediately set to drooling as if she were a very shapely steak and kidney pie, while Aunt Petunia spotted the lime green hair and winced.

"– came into a rather large fortune on top of my already enormous wealth – I'm extremely rich, have I ever mentioned that? – was named both a Lord and a Baron as well as Head of five ancient and powerful Houses, gained control of the wizarding legislative body, and discovered I own a house that puts Windsor Castle to shame. And no more fucking glasses! Have I missed anything?"

"Your dragon," supplied Ron, draping his long limbs across a flowery armchair.

Harry snapped his fingers. "I knew I forgot something. That's right, I own a motherfucking dragon. So, what this all means is that one, I'm never coming back here. Two, I can do what I want. And three, I wasn't lying when I said the board of directors at Grunnings requires you to immediately step down as vice-president and assume your new position as Head Coffee-Pourer for all meetings. Amazing what a majority ownership and a lot of gold will accomplish."

Vernon swelled, unable to articulate his anger, and for a moment Harry feared they would have another Aunt Marge incident.

Harry held up his hand. "I'll let you speak, but one word out of place, Vernon …" He left the threat hanging, knowing no matter what he said, his uncle would probably rage anyway.

He was right. "We've put up with a lot since you went to that freak school, but even I never imagined you would show such ingratitude –"

That was enough. "Ingratitude?" Harry repeated in a dangerously calm voice that made both Ron and Tonks perk up and pay attention. "What am I supposed to be grateful for? A dusty cupboard under the staircase? Only spiders for friends? Clothes big enough to fit a small whale? Getting blamed for every single thing that has ever gone wrong in your lives? Daily beatings from my cousin? Lies and insults about my dead parents? You can go fuck yourself with a sideways cactus and a sandpaper condom."

He paused, attempting to gain some control over his rapidly inflating temper. Ron gave him a thumbs-up, while Tonks made no attempt to hide her laughter. All three of his relatives were simply stunned, figuratively speaking.

He waved his hand, releasing them, but he doubted they noticed. "Go pack your shit. You're coming to live with me. Not that I care about you or ever want to see you again, but your presence is beneficial to my safety and the safety of all living in my house. It won't hurt to add one more ward. Now get going."

It took some prodding and judicious wand waving, but in the end all three Dursleys were installed in the basement wing of Gryffindor Sound, alongside the house-elf quarters. When Harry informed Petunia that this was because she would be working with the creatures, she fainted. Dudley, still sulking because his Playstation didn't work, at first seemed rather content to hover around the gargantuan kitchen. Then he met Clyde, who showed the first signs of life in days.

Harry left them to get acquainted, reminding his wife of a certain as yet unfulfilled promise. They were on their way to their bedroom when they passed the War Room, all of their housemates hunched together.

"What's going on?"

Dean waved them over. "Come look, mate. Colin has his pictures developed from your birthday party. You won't believe this!"

Harry and Tonks slipped past the others until they could look over the shoulder of the excitable budding photographer. The next few minutes were filled with gasps, groans, laughter, coughs, gulps, blushing, and taunts.

"How did _that_ fit in _there_?"

"I don't remember this."

"Why are you yellow?"

"I knew there was a reason my foot hurt."

"Wow, Terry …"

"Never mix that with firewhiskey."

"There's the monkey!"

"Is that Hannah's tooth?"

"So that's how the fire started."

The final picture left utter silence. All eyes were on a Metamorphmagus in the middle of the room.

"Well," Tonks finally said. "That explains a lot."


	22. His Dark Sparkliness

**Like Juggling Snowballs through Hell**

Time passed in a frenzy of training, Quidditch and sex. As the September 1st drew near, the members of the B.A. were a force. A few days before the start of term, Neville found Harry in the War Room.

"Harry! My main man—no homo."

"What's up, Neville?"

"I have a little errand to run. A couple, in fact. I'll be back by dinner time. Tell Clyde I'll bring him another bottle of firewhiskey."

"I'm on it. Where are you going?" Harry asked. The smile Neville gave him was concerning.

"Just on a little recon. Can't have our fearless leader going into a situation blind, can we?"

"O…kay…."

"Toodles, bitches. Oh, and I'm taking Creevey Number One and Ron with me."

Harry just shook his head. Neville had broken out of his gangsta-rap mode, but seemed to like the persona every once in a while. It grew on you….

He made his way downstairs to where the rest of the B.A. were eating lunch. Grabbing a sandwich, he said, "Okay, we've got some shit to discuss."

"As always," Ginny said.

"First up, Pottermore has been named the official fifth Hogwarts House. And you're all sorted. I've got to figure out how to talk to the Sorting Hat."

"You may belong in Pottermore, where dwell some sexy beasts," Tonks said, laughing.

"Now, now, we wouldn't want to scare the first years," Remus said.

"Anyway…the other thing is, we still need a plan of attack for his Dark Sparkliness."

"His…what?" Dean asked.

"Back when I was having accidental flashes of his sexytimes with Darth Teddy, I caught a glimpse of some interesting outfits. Not important. The thing is, I no longer have the connection with Voldyshorts—"

"Of course you do," Hermione said, feeding Ginny a biscuit.

"Er…huh?"

"Harry, the accidental flashes were due to Bellatrix, somehow, but that doesn't mean you can't purposefully look into his head. Merlin, must I explain every rare magical occurrence that is based on experience and I should know nothing about?"

"Oh…right…well I'll check in later. We just need to have a plan in case his minions decide to attack the Hogwarts Express."

"Why ride with the rabble?" Neville said as he, Ron and Colin strode in through the back door. "I was just checking into the whole interconnected manors thing, and turns out, we can get to Hogwarts the same way Durmstrang did."

"Your boat?" Lupin asked.

"Right-o! That's what I was checking on. Explain, Ronald."

"The quick version is that all of the rivers that are underground due to natural causes, are used by wizards as another mode of transportation now."

"Every once in a while, I forget that you're supposed to be the dumb one," Seamus said.

"Er…thanks?"

"That's better."

"Potter!" Moody growled. "Best check in with You-Know-Who sooner, rather than later. We've only got a day and a half to prepare, even if you do take Longbottom's toy canoe."

"Got it. Just give me a minute." Harry closed his eyes and concentrated.

* * *

_Voldemort swept through the room like an overgrown lizard. "First they convert Draco, then they steal my Bella-bear away, now the Fat Kid—"_

"_Excuse me, my Lord, but Longbottom's not actually fat. He looks rather good lately…"_

"_Nott?" Voldemort asked quietly._

"_Yes, my Lord?" _

_A second later, the man was on the floor, groaning and holding his naughty bits._

"_As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted…did any of you find out what this… Privilege of Legacy nonsense is? Or what Potter is planning? Or whether I'll be able to bend the new headmaster to my will? SOMEONE GIVE ME SOMETHING?"_

"_Master…" a low, slick voice said. "Allow me?"_

"_As always, Severus. The one I can depend on."_

"_Potter and his friends have… used this summer as little more than an excuse to fornicate and play around with their magic… without the fear of repercussion. That said, they have learned a few new tricks, but nothing a full grown wizard would not have…already mastered. It is…certainly nothing out of the ordinary."_

"_Indeed…."_

"_As for the Privilege of Legacy…it is an old pureblood tradition. It ensures that the youngest daughter of a line is allowed…whatever they want in life. I believe Muggles call it 'spoiled brat syndrome'."_

"_I care not what the Muggles call it!"_

"_Apologies, my Lord. In any case, if the youngest daughter invokes this right, they are to be accommodated. To not do so would be…unwise. The Weasley spawn is capable of it…though I…highly doubt she knows it. Her blood traitor family is highly ignorant of the pureblood ways…as of many things."_

"_And our new headmaster is?"_

"_Dumbledore."_

"_How?"_

"_Better the devil you know, according to the Ministry. And even though Potter and his team of miscreants… hold all the power in the Wizengamot… they still cannot overrule a direct pardon from the Minister."_

"_Blast! We won't be able to attack him there, then?"_

"_It would be…imprudent, my Lord. However, I shall keep a close eye on his actions. Perhaps I can find a weakness. Merlin knows he has many."_

"_My gratitude, Severus. Go now. Amycus! Bring me Darth Teddy!"_

* * *

Harry's eyes snapped open again. "Poor Darth Teddy," he muttered.

"Still a better love story than Twilight," Moody growled.

"Huh?" everyone asked.

"Never you mind."

"Er…Ginny?" Harry said, smiling.

"Fuck's sake, do I even want to know?"

"Trust me when I say, you do."

* * *

As everyone got ready to leave on September 1st, Harry called the Dursley's up from their apartment.

"Oi, listen. Don't even think about leaving, because you've got about as much chance of that as Dudley has winning the gold in rhythmic gymnastics. Anything you need, you can ask the elves for help. They're under orders not to take orders from you, though, so you can't boss them around. Dudley, Mr. Finney's going to tutor you."

"The dragon guy?" his cousin asked.

"That'd be me, sonny!" Finney said, bustling in.

Uncle Vernon snorted. "My son is used to the highest form of education! I doubt—"

"What? All that fancy theoretical mess and not holding the lads accountable for their shitty behavior? Psh… No wonder the boy looks dumb as a sack of dragon dung and twice as ugly. I'll learn him something, or my name isn't Gumptious R. Finney!"

"There you have it," Harry said. "And in case you get any bright ideas about trying to escape, despite my warnings…remember that there will be a steady stream of wizards loyal to the Potter-Black Legion coming in and out. Probably us too, if we can swing it…. Any questions?"

The Durselys stood there looking murderous, scornful, and confused.

"Good! See you later!"

* * *

Snape paced back and forth, watching the Black Lake. Just like Potter to have to make an entrance. He paused and took a small book from his cloak pocket. He looked back over the last thing he'd written. For a moment, his face softened.

_Never have I seen such green—like pools of emerald_

_Going on into vast eternity_

_To where she is…where my heart is._

_Give me strength._

_You are her—but still you are him._

_Up above me, their spirits fly hand in hand._

_Never have I seen such eyes_

_Going through me, that gaze_

_To pierce my soul and tame my heart._

_Let me protect you._

_You, Lily. _

_Down with the Dark Lord._

A splash made him jump, and a second later, he saw Longbottom's yacht come into view. His face hardened again as he marched to the dock. When the students reached him, he had his trademark sneer in place.

"Too good for the Hogwarts Express now, I see?"

"Way too good," Harry said. "Plus Neville's boat serves cerviche."

"Fifty points from Gryffindor! And Ravenclaw! And Hufflepuff!"

"Bitch, you be trippin," Neville chuckled, walking past with his arm around Luna.

Snape grumbled and followed them up.

They made it to the Great Hall just as the Sorting Hat began to sing.


	23. Listen Up, Yo, We're Pottermore

**Like Juggling Snowballs through Hell**

The assembled first years were quite taken aback to see a large group of fifth, sixth and seventh years striding through the entrance to the Great Hall. They stood back rather in awe; their little faces lighting up when they saw Harry, and looking quite confused when Neville appeared with his entourage. Nonetheless, they made way, and the group of them walked up to the Sorting Hat.

"Hat," Harry said, politely.

"Lord-Baron Potter-Black," the Hat replied.

"You mind if we take this from here? We got a little knowledge of our own to drop."

"All good, my man. After a thousand years, I'm just mailing it in at this point."

Harry turned and faced the student body. He then touched a finger to the Gryffindor crest on his cloak and watched as it disappeared. A loud cheer went up from most of the students, which Harry encouraged. The other newly-minted Pottermore students touched their crests with their wands, and they stood as a group, arms crossed, wands out.

"Yo Hogwarts, make some noise!" Harry began, and the assembled student obliged. "You may know him from the greenhouses. Ladies, you may know him from your dreams. His bottom isn't the only thing that's long. Ladies and gentlemen, Lord! Neville! Long-bottom!"

Neville turned to the sorting hat.

"Yo, hat, gimme a beat." The hat did so, and Neville cast a Sonorus charm and began his song.

_Aaaah! You can't stand it, you know I planned it_

_We're gonna set it straight, so haters hate_

_Dumbledore fucked us, then hit the road_

_Along with Umbridge, that fucking toad_

_So I'mma do my thing I'm just straight clownin'_

_And Hogwarts just can't hold me down_

_The school houses - there used to be four_

_But Oh my God, we're Pottermore!_

The other Pottermore students chimed in at this point

_Listen all y'all, we're Pottermore_

_Listen all y'all, we're Pottermore_

_Listen all y'all, we're Pottermore_

_Listen all y'all, we're Pottermore_

Neville continued.

_So, so, so listen up if you want to find us_

_We'll be on the boat that's right behind ya_

_We're not Hufflepuff, not Gryffindor_

_That's right, y'all, we're Pottermore._

Neville turned to the Head Table, stretching his arms out in a questioning manner. He then turned back around to face the student body, snapped his finger, and he and the rest of Pottermore house walked out of the entrance hall, and back toward the boat, to raucous applause.

* * *

High-fives and back-slapping went around the group as they ambled back on to Neville's yacht.

"Did you see the looks on the professors?" Ron asked. "They didn't know what hit them. I thought McGonagall's face was going to pucker in on itself."

"I thought Snape was going to concuss himself, as many times as his head hit the table," Hermione chimed in. "Poor dear."

"Poor dear?" Ginny asked. "Really? That greasy-headed no-good death-eating bastard?"

"Yes, poor dear. He has no idea he's going to die this year, does he?"

The back-slapping and general grabassery stopped, and somewhere, a record player's needle slid across an LP.

"Oh," Hermione said, feigning surprise that she'd brought the room to a halt. "Was I the only one who'd sussed that out"

"God, you're sexy when you get all deductive," Ginny said, breathlessly, as the whole room watched their conversation. "How's it going to happen?"

"Elementary, my dear scullery wench," Hermione replied, swatting a blushing Ginny's ass playfully. "If he's lucky, Snape's going to have to cash in that life-debt he owes to Harry's father by the time ol' Tommyboy comes around. But, more likely is that he says something stupid to Harry and/or Neville during Potions class, and one of them just offs the bastard."

Ginny was fanning herself furiously. "You just figured that out from - Oh my. Um, excuse us, guys. We'll be in my bunk."

By this time, the revelry had returned, and a party atmosphere had taken over the yacht. Harry, Tonks and Neville (with Su and Lisa) were watching the goings-on in a make-shift VIP section, nodding their heads to the music and smiling. Their moment of sublime cool was interrupted, however, by a rock thrown against one of the portholes.

"Yo Nev, you got this, G?"

"I'm on it."

Neville walked above decks and looked to the shore, where he saw three first-years with purple sequin ties standing with their arms crossed and their heads bobbing in time.

"Permission to come a mother fucking board, Pimp?"

Neville nodded his head, and the three first-years scrambled onto the yacht's forecastle.

" 'Sup?" Neville asked.

" 'Sup?" the same first-year answered. "We got sorted Pottermore, playboy. Where's our bunk?"

Neville chuckled a bit, and then opened the hatch to the bridge, leading the three first-years to a bemused Harry and Tonks.

"So," Harry began, upon seeing the firsties' uniforms, "Our colors are purple and… sequin? And our badge has a platypus wearing a pimp hat and feather boa holding what looks like Lucius Malfoy's cane?"

"Sounds about right," said Tonks. "What were you expecting, a golden unicorn that shoots rainbows out of its ass?"

"Yeah, I suppose." Harry then addressed the youngsters. "And who are you supposed to be?"

"We just got sorted Pottermore, G. My name's Oliver. This here's Penelope, and the bloke behind her is Peter."

Penelope and Peter waved, and then Penelope shot a wink at Lisa, holding her hand up to her ear mimicking a telephone, mouthing "Call me."

"Yeah, I suppose you were," Harry said. "So, I suppose we're going to have house points and a head of house and all the rest of that nonsense, too? Oh well. Anyway, we still have this bitchin yacht. Why don't you kids go join the party, and we'll get the house elves to figure out your berthing. Oh, are any of you muggleborn?" Harry asked, and Penelope raised her hand.

"Of course you are. Let me guess, Half-blood and Pureblood, too, right, fellas?" The boys nodded, and Harry shook his head, chuckling. "Anyway, Elves are real, Penelope, so don't lose your shit when you see them, okay?" Penelope nodded, and the three of them made a bee-line for the Butterbeer cooler.

"So, classes tomorrow, huh?" Neville says, out of the blue.

"Yeah, classes," Harry replies. "You really think one of us is going to kill Snape this year?"

"I'm running 5/2 on Harry before Boxing Day. Neville's got longer odds, but his are before Hallowe'en," Tonks pipes up.

"You going to put a line on someone else offing him?" Harry asked. "Remus's got an itchy trigger these days. I think he's about one smart-ass remark away from AK-ing people just for sport."

"Yeah, but he's a professor again, so he can't –"

"Wait – what?" Neville asked. "When did this happen?

"Well, you lot did need a head of house, didn't you?"

Harry turned to Neville and high-fived him.

"Neville, I think this was a good day."

Neville looked up from what he was doing to respond.

"And I didn't even have to use my AK."


	24. The School Year Begins

**Like Juggling Snowballs through Hell**

The Pottermore house gathered in the yacht's parlor for muffins and mimosas the next morning. Remus, feeling like he should at least try to be the adult, made the first years settle for pumpkin juice.

"Right, everyone," Harry said, standing up. "Remember the plan. Best behavior until the last lesson. Then, let loose with stage one of Dumbledore's Takedown. Everyone third year and under, leave the troublemaking to us for the first few days. We'll let you in on the fun on Friday. Hermione, you've been reading up on Ginny's hereditary gift, right?"

"Privilege of Legacy is unlike any other form of magic," Hermione said. "While other things have certain restrictions, Ginny can basically ask for anything she wants, and it has to be granted. The only exception is if it's out of the scope of someone's power."

"What does that mean?" Oliver asked, trying to steal a sip of someone's unguarded mimosa.

"It means," Remus said, taking it from him and ruffling his hair, "that if Ginny were to ask me for the password to Dumbledore's study, I wouldn't suffer any consequences for not giving it to her, as I don't know it."

"Not that hard to guess, what with his sweet tooth," Harry said. "Anyone with a basic knowledge of the Honeyduke's catalog could get in."

No one missed the look of fiendish glee that spread across Ron's face.

"Anyway—"

They all turned as a magically amplified voice sounded through the air.

"Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom! Please come to shore!"

"Damn…I thought he'd at least wait until after first lesson," Tonks said.

"Mind if I take this one, lads?" Seamus asked.

The two Lords glanced at each other, and then shrugged.

"Sure mate," Harry said, curious to see what his friend would do.

The group stood as one (Oliver finally managing to snag some booze) and followed the Irish boy out onto the deck.

Seamus tapped each railing of the bridge leading to the deck, and waved his wand as if he were conducting an orchestra. Nothing happened…until he stepped onto the platform. Fire rose in columns, following him down the bridge until he was standing at the Headmaster's feet.

"Ears! Extendable ears!" George said, passing them around.

Seamus had obviously been waiting for them, because he didn't speak until everyone had their ears up. "Seamus Finnigan, Lord of the Stone Circles, Baron to Cersei Loch, Lord of the Eire Magician's Club, and Master of the Green Fire, at your service."

"Fuck sake!"

"Seamus is a Lord too?"

"I love how he threw in Dublin's magical strip club."

"Think he could get us in for free?"

"At this rate, the only actual peasants at this school are probably the Slytherins!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Shut it!" Penelope said. "I want to hear!"

"I asked to speak with your friends, Mister Longbottom and Mister Potter," Dumbledore said.

"They don't take orders from convicts, unfortunately," Seamus told him. "I'll be happy to relay any message, but if you could make it fast…classes are about to start. You may be completely inept, but even you wouldn't stand in the way of our…education."

"I would like to speak with them both after dinner."

"I'll tell them. I wouldn't hold your breath, though." With that, he strolled back up to the deck, fire dying behind him.

"Nice touch with the flames," Dean said appreciatively.

"Thanks. He wants to see you tonight after dinner."

Harry and Neville looked at each other and laughed.

* * *

Dumbledore sat in his study, listening to his staff haranguing him. He needed a chai tea and a long soak.

"He had the UNMITIGATED GALL to tell me he was getting me shampoo for Christmas."

"She demanded top marks in my class! And pulled some sort of privilege something or other on me."

"He conjured about 200 toads and set them loose in my classroom! The first years were terrified!"

Dumbledore held up his hands for silence. "I promise I will speak to all of them. Starting with Miss Weasley. She seems like the top problem at the moment."

"Are you mental, Albus?" Snape asked. "Oh, wait…you are. Why in the name of Merlin's nipple rings would she be the problem? Potter's obviously the ring leader!"

"Exactly. And she's destined to be his wife."

"Er…not sure that one's going to work out," Flitwick squeaked.

"What's that, Filius?" Dumbledore asked.

"I went to Filch's office earlier to ask a question. He wasn't there, but…er… I got an eyeful of Miss Weasley and Miss Granger. And Miss Bell and Miss Johnson."

McGonagall blanched. "This cannot continue, Albus!"

"I will handle everything tomorrow. Now please, let's all get some rest."

The teachers filed out, grumbling about disrespectful, hormonal teens.

Dumbledore slumped back in his chair. Nothing could be worse than this. Hell, he'd even take his chances with Voldemort at the moment.


	25. Shoop

"You say you read it in a book, Hermione?" Harry asked. "Well, then it must be right. Where did you get this book?"

"Oh. I have access to all the books," Hermione replied. "Right here in this little beaded bag. Comes in handy."

"Wait. What do you mean by 'all the books?'"

Ginny purred as Hermione explained. "I mean all the books. Every book that was ever written in every language on Earth. I have them. Right here. Ginny! Wands are not used for - Stop that!" she hissed as Ginny began to show her appreciation for Hermione's well-endowed library.

"Right. Well, if we're going to try this, we'll need to make sure we've got everything, or else it'll surely backfire. Neville?"

"Three goats, a jar of cold cream, and six meters of ribbon. This shit's on lock, G."

"Tonks?"

"A quart of polyjuice, and it's a waxing one-quarter moon tonight."

"Luna?"

"Oh, I'll just be comic relief, Harry," Luna replied. "Plus, I'll be tripping balls when we get there. Radish earrings - who else would come up with such a thing? Oh, and I got the halcyon-laced lemon sherbets from my connection."

"Hannah?"

"Girlfriend wanna be like me, never. I make you hot as Las Vegas weather," replied the mousy blonde former Hufflepuff.

The rest of Harry's Inner Circle just groaned.

"Dammit, Neville!" Tonks shouted. "What the hell did you do to her?"

"Man," Neville answered. "I ain't done - oh shit. Yo, check this out."

Behind Hannah appeared Colin and Dennis Creevey. Colin handed her a golden, jewel-encrusted walking stick, while Dennis put a similarly-styled goblet filled with elf-made wine in her hand. Neville snapped his fingers, and Narcissa appeared next to him with his own goblet, filled with pumpkin juice. He raised it in salute to Hannah, who smiled wickedly.

"Much respect, G," he said. Around the two of them could be heard the slapping of palms into faces.

"Right. Hannah, really?" Harry asked. "Colin, okay, whatever. But Dennis? Isn't he like, thirteen or something?"

Hannah shrugged her shoulders. "The brother had it going on with something kinda wicked, wicked. Had to kick it. I'm not shy so I asked for the digits."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Par for the course, I guess. Anyway, do you have the lipstick, nail polish and extra robes?"

Hannah shot Harry a wink and nodded her head in response.

"Er, word," Harry said. "Susan? All good?"

"Quite," Susan said. "Auntie will be in location at precisely ten past seven."

"Wonderful. OPP? What about you lot? You're just firsties, so if you want to back out, now's the time."

"We're down," Oliver replied. We're just there to look vacant and shocked, right?"

"Well, I guess our dastardly plan is set then. Tonight, my minions, we strike. Excellent!" Harry said, grinning and rubbing his hands together maliciously.

"If you ask me to morph into a teddy bear, Potter," Tonks said, "I'll spend your entire class day reading teen paranormal romance - with the soul bond open!"

Harry looked at the floor, sheepishly. "Right. Can it with the evil genius stuff. Anyway, I think supper is ready.

That evening, at precisely twenty-three minutes to seven, Hermione and Ginny shared one last kiss (for luck, of course) at the base of the staircase leading up to the Headmaster's office. At nineteen minutes to seven, Hermione realized they ought to button their blouses and get moving, as they were at that point a minute behind schedule. Ginny invoked Privilege of Legacy at the gargoyle in a particularly nasal whine, asking it to leave its post for the evening. They downed their polyjuice, checked that their surprises were still hidden, and made their way into the Headmaster's office.

"Oh, Albie!" Hermione said in a sing-song voice. "It is so good to see you." Hermione ran up to the Headmaster, giving him a tight squeeze and turning his attention from his desk, as Ginny swapped out the lemon drops.

"Arianna?" Albus asked, dumbfounded. "But you're -"

"Oh, don't you worry about that, darling," Hermione continued. "Just have a lemon sherbet with me, the way we used to in the garden out back of the house when you were nine. It will be like we never left." Albus took a lemon drop and sat back in his chair, feeling the calming effects of the mild hallucinogen immediately. Hermione pantomimed taking a drop herself, as did Ginny, who sat down on Albus's lap. Hermione typed "Mark A" into her charmed DA Galleon, and Harry, Neville, Luna, Su and the OPP firsties began to walk towards the castle

"Gellert!" Albus said. "It's been so long, my little Knufflebunny!" Ginny put a finger over Albus's lips as he tried to kiss her.

"Not so fast, snookums," Ginny said. "Look, we have a surprise for you, just like in the old days!"

Ginny and Hermione stood up, pulled three shrunken goats, plus the various ingredients their comrades-in-arms had procured from their pockets and, with a mild body-bind, had them remain in place facing the door.

"Oh, but they're... beautiful!" Albus said. "Look at them! They're so perky!"

"Yes, yes they are, darling," Hermione squeaked out, trying to keep down the bile that was rising from her stomach. "Why don't you just give us a bit, and they'll be all ready for you."

Albus sat at his desk, and watched in rapture as Ginny and Hermione outfitted the livestock with student robes, lipstick - 'on the puckery bits, too,' Albus admonished - and nail polish on the hooves. They tied bows with the ribbon around the middle of each goat, outside the robes, and used the excess to fashion reins leading from the horns to the back of each animal.

"They look like six little maypoles!" Albus cried, jumping up and down. "Now, do you have the cold cream for my manly parts? And are you going to apply it, like usual, Gellert?" Albus asked. It was a close call for Ginny to avoid vomiting all over the office floor, but she maintained composure.

"Oh, it's been so long, Albie!" Ginny said. "Why don't you just get ready so I can be surprised?"

Ginny turned her back, trying very hard not to think about what was going on underneath the Headmaster's desk, while Hermione typed "Mark B" into her Galleon. Luna and Su applied the lipstick and nail polish to Oliver and Peter, while Penelope made herself up. They then took their shots of polyjuice, their laced lemon drops, and waited underneath Harry's invisibility cloak. Meanwhile, Susan sent a Patronus to her aunt, saying that Harry and Neville were in the Headmaster's office, and she was afraid they were about to be kidnapped, so she'd better bring some backup.

Once he was finished preparing himself with cold cream and a complete lack of shame, a very naked and excited Albus Dumbledore emerged from behind his desk, crying "Ready or not, here I come, _mis penqueños cabritos lindos_!" Hermione typed "Go" into her Galleon, Ginny tried to think happy thoughts, and Harry counted to thirty. About ten seconds after the Headmaster found his lipstick-covered target, and just as he was building up a head of steam, the door to his office opened, and the crew standing outside made their way in.

"Hi Headmaster, you wanted to - Headmaster! What are you doing?" cried Harry, as the headmaster jumped out and away from his bovid paramours.

"Yo, seriously?" Neville asked, getting between the headmaster and the livestock.. "Goats? My parents raised goats you sick bastard! Those animals have feelings. Real feelings!"

As Neville was going on, Harry lifted the invisibility cloak off of the three first years, and replaced the animals with the polyjuiced students. A wrinkle of his nose secured the ribbons in place. The animals were shrunk and given to Su, who made her way back to the boat. Suddenly, there was a flash in the fireplace, and Amelia Bones, accompanied by sixteen Aurors First Class, emerged from the floo.

"Sweet Merlin, Professor!" she exclaimed, as Harry wrinkled his nose at the first years. "I've seen some sick things in my time, but this! This is just - ew. Are you boys - Oh my God."

As she was finishing, the three first-years began to emerge from their polyjuiced selves, still gaudily made up, and with their ribbons on the floor in front of them. Hermione and Ginny had disappeared underneath the invisibility cloak.

The entire room stood, speechless, as the three first years began to stumble in place, before regaining their footing. As soon as they saw the Headmaster flinch, six different Aurors had their wands trained on him, while another four slapped magic-blocking manacles on his wrists. A livid, but very concerned Amelia Bones walked over to the three first-years and knelt down to their height.

"Do you children know where you are?" she asked. When they struggled to form complete words, Amelia waved her wand in front of them.

"My goodness. They're drugged to the gills! Holden! Cameron! Look for the source!"

The two aurors saluted and began waving their wands around the office, very quickly coming across the laced lemon drops. When Amelia saw the candy begin to glow, she walked over to Albus and slapped him hard across the face.

"You are the most vile, disgusting creature I have ever laid eyes on, Albus Dumbledore. If you're lucky, you get pushed through the veil tonight. If not, I will haunt you every day you are incarcerated with images of what you've done to these children. May the Gods have mercy on you, Dumbledore, because Justice sure as shit won't. Get him out of my sight!"

After the Headmaster had been dragged out of his office through the floo by the contingent of Aurors, Amelia turned to Luna, who was busy moving her hand in front of her face slowly, watching the multi-colored trails of light chase after it.

"You - Lovegood, right?"

"Oh yes. Yes, that's me, Ma'am," Luna answered.

"Would you take these children to the Hospital Wing, Miss Lovegood? Hopefully they can just sleep it off, and wake up not remembering much of what happened."

"Oh, they'll be fine, Madame Bones," Luna replied. "It's just an infestation of Flippering Narzlewhatsitses that has their little brains all befuddled. That should clear up in a few hours by itself. I think Tonks has something for that back on the boat. I'll just take them there, then. Ta!"

There were a couple of moments of general laughter at the zany Luna and her madcap antics before Madame Bones became the extra-serious Head of DMLE once more.

"Lord-Baron Potter-Black, Lord Longbottom," she said. "I am terribly sorry you have to witness this. Were it not for my niece alerting me to a possible kidnapping here today, I wouldn't have even shown up to see this - this horror. Did Dumbledore lure you up here for the same depraved purposes?"

"I don't think so," Harry answered. "We were about half an hour early - I think he just wanted to remind us who is in charge. Right now, it doesn't look as though he is, so I'll assume we can just go back to our common room. I'd kinda like to get out of here as soon as possible - this office gives me the creeps."

Harry turned around to leave before seeing the subtle shimmering of an invisibility cloak on the floor in the corner. He lifted it up to find a cat and a bunny rabbit on a pile of women's clothing, breaking several laws of God and Nature. He scooped the squirming pile up in his cloak, slung it over his shoulder, and he and Neville made their goodbyes and thank yous to Madame Bones, who told them she would schedule a time to take their statements about what they had seen.

* * *

That evening, as the Dumbledore's Gone party raged, and "Ding Dong, The Witch Is Dead" blared over the phonograph, Tonks and Harry decided to retire to their private berthing, rather than partake in the festivities.

"You know, sugarbritches," Tonks said as they were snuggled in their rack, watching the moonlight dance on the ripples of the lake. "We sure got ol' Dumbles good, but there's something about the way we did it that rather bugs me."

"What's that, Tonks?"

"Well, he is, or was the only out gay professor at the school. And we've framed him into doing some horribly deviant sexual things to get him thrown on his ear. Did we, wittingly or unwittingly, make a statement about homosexuality and sexual deviancy by doing that?"

"This would be the wrong time to invoke the 'some of my best friends are' excuse and point to Ron and Hermione, right?" Harry asked. "Oh well. Anyway, I didn't mean anything by it, and I certainly hope no one infers anything like that. I mean, really. Who would we be to talk about deviancy, anyway, with what goes on on board this ship? And we're the good guys."

"I suppose you're right," Tonks said, snuggling back into her husband's chest. "Ooh, which reminds me. That strap-on came in the owl post this afternoon. Did you want to try it out?"

"Do I ever!" exclaimed Harry. "You get it on, I'll get the bit and bridle."


	26. What Fourth Wall?

**Like Juggling Snowballs through Hell**

The significant others of the Lords and Ladies of Hogwarts all trudged sleepily to the bathroom. Some brushed their teeth while the others queued for the loo.

In the yacht's kitchen, the house elves set the table for the multitude of ravenous witches and wizards that would soon come down.

Miles away, an old wizard sat and fretted in a jail cell.

Other miles away, a slightly younger wizard sat and fretted in a Ministry office.

Super miles away, Voldemort was throwing a tantrum because he couldn't find Darth Teddy.

And back on the yacht, Ron Weasley knocked on Harry's door. "Morning!" he said brightly, carrying in a tray loaded with breakfast stuff.

Harry sat up and grabbed the thick rimmed spectacles with the lenses missing. "Hey Ron. You didn't have to bring me breakfast."

"I know," the redhead said, dividing the mountain of food evenly. "But I wanted to talk a little business. Where does our plan go from here? We got rid of Dumbledore…now what?"

"Hell if I know. It seems like ages."

"That's because one of our authors already contributed the last bit, one has writer's block, and the other one won't hop off Glee's dick long enough to get back to her true fandom."

"HEY!"

Both boys jumped.

"Who was that?" Harry asked, looking around.

"JUST THINK OF ME AS THE VOICE OF GOD, YOU DISRESPECTFUL LITTLE SHITS."

"Aw, come on…we didn't mean anything by it," Ron whined.

"SURE…. MIND YOUR ATTITUDE. I'M THISCLOSE TO HAVING NEVILLE AND HERMIONE SPEAK IN NOTHING BUT BIG SEAN QUOTES FOR THE REST OF THE DAMN STORY."

"Okay, okay!" Harry yelled at the ceiling. "We're sorry."

"Anyway," Ron continued. "They're bound to get another headmaster or headmistress soon—"

"YOU'RE GETTING ONE TODAY."

"Do you mind?" Harry asked.

"NOT AT ALL."

"Will we like them?" Ron asked.

The only sound was from the activity in the hall.

"Asshole."

"I HEARD THAT."

"Look," Harry said, buttering a crumpet. "We'll just play it by ear. If it's someone totally wretched, we'll handle them just like we handled Dumbledore. Well…maybe not just like that. But you get what I'm saying."

* * *

Ron walked up the steps of the Grand Staircase, whistling. It had been a good day. They'd actually gone to class for once, and hell, even participated. Flitwick had let him practice the hiccup charm on a few Slytherins, the elves had served his favorite lunch, and they'd gained a few more people to the Lord Baron Potter Black cause. Yes, things were looking up.

"What are you smirking at, Weasley?"

"Afternoon, Blaise," Ron said, his voice deepening. "Want to meet in the Room of Requirement later?"

Blaise glared at him. "Fuck off, Weasley."

"Anything you say, Zabini."

At that moment, there was a loud noise outside. Like a sword being unsheathed, only a thousand times louder. Both boys looked out of the window towards the forest. Flocks of birds were lifting into the air as the sound repeated over and over.

"This can't be good," Ron muttered, bolting back down the stairs.

By the time he made it back out to the lake, the rest of the Pottermore house was there as well. He was about to run up the plank, when the Giant Squid shot out a tentacle, grabbed him, and placed him on board. It was getting rather familiar with them lately….

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Hermione's speed reading," Ginny said. "We'll have it in a second."

"They're barricades," Hermione said, closing the five thousand page tome she'd just read in under ten minutes. "They'll stop anyone from getting in or out who isn't allowed."

"Try it out, Prongslet," Remus said.

Harry closed his eyes. Nothing happened. "Well, I'll be fucked."

That's when the all heard it….

"Hem hem."

"No."

"Fuck no."

"Dis bitch be cray!"

They all turned and saw the alarming shade of pink they'd come to associate with sociopaths. Hannah and Neville stood protectively in front of their concubines and the first years. Hermione took Ginny's hand as the redhead glared hard enough to give a stone statue nightmares. Harry was so consumed with rage he fell to the ground laughing hysterically.

"I think they finally broke him," Tonks muttered. "Harry James Potter, on your feet or I won't use the paddle tonight!"

That got his attention. He scrambled to his feet as Umbridge called up to them.

"Harry Potter and cohorts! You will return to your regular houses immediately!"

"Just you try and make us!" Harry shouted back.

Umbridge just smiled her evil little smile and walked back to the castle.

"Right," Harry said, turning to the group. "Until we get this old bat out, no one goes anywhere alone, understood?"

The group murmured assent.

"To the bat cave! It's time to plot…."

* * *

Hermione and Ginny rapped on the headmistress's door after dinner. Calling on her fabulous acting skills, Ginny managed to produce some tears.

"What do you want?" Umbridge asked, eyeing them suspiciously through the door.

"To help you get Potter," Hermione said.

Umbridge looked doubtful. "Well, stop blubbering and come in. What exactly turned you away from your leader?" she asked scornfully.

"He's out of control!" Hermione yelled. "He won't listen to us anymore."

"I didn't like Dumbledore," Ginny sniffed. "But I want to be loyal to the Ministry. Like my brother, Percy."

Umbridge smiled. "Why should I believe you? You lied once before – I haven't forgotten."

"We brought you something to show we were serious," Hermione said, taking some parchment out of her pocket.

"What's this?"

"His map of Hogwarts," Ginny said. She tapped it with her wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Umbridge's eyes widened as the map spread out before her. "Girls…."

"We just want to help," Hermione said. "We want to be a part of Hogwarts again."

This time they could nearly smell the malevolent glee radiating off the woman – or perhaps that was just her putrid perfume.

"Very well. You wish to help?"

"Yes."

"And you, Miss Weasley?"

Ginny nodded.

"I thought Potter was your one true love?" she asked mockingly.

"He's obsessed with that two bit trollop, Tonks," she said bitterly. "And he said he thinks redheads have no souls!" she added, sobbing again.

Umbridge stroked Ginny's cheek. "There there…. We'll set him straight. You two will spy on him and report back to me, understood? I want to know everything he's planning."

"Yes ma'am."

"Go."

"I can't believe she bought it!" Colin yelped.

"I can't believe she took the map," Harry said, chuckling fit to burst. "She's going to be scarred for life…."

"I will never feel clean again!" Ginny hollered, still scrubbing the side of her face that Umbridge had besmirched.

"Come on, love. We'll take a nice bubble bath," Hermione said, pulling her out of the room.

"On that note," Dean said, grabbing Ron and dragging him out.

In less than a minute, all of the couples had scattered, leaving only the first years in the main parlor.

"Ever wonder what they all get up to?" Oliver asked.

"No," the other two said.


	27. A Turn for the Worse

Harry and the rest of the BA were concerned. Certainly Dumbledore was gone, Harry controlled most of the Wizengamot, Voldemort's henchmen were falling left and right - Darth Teddy excluded, much to Harry's misfortune - and they were on a motherfucking boat. But still, as they processed into the Great Hall for lunch, crouched slightly at the knees and snapping their fingers in time with their marching, it occurred to Harry that something just wasn't right. Something big and obnoxious had its mind set on thwarting Pottermore House's aim of school domination and general grabassery.

"Sonorus. Hem, Hem," Madame Umbridge said, standing in the Headmistress's place at the head table.

"That's right, bitches. I'm ba-ack."

"No you're not!" Harry replied, standing and shouting, full to the brim with self-righteous anger. He caught himself a moment later, apologized softly, and sat back down.

"Which reminds me, children," the newly-installed Headmistress continued in her trademark saccharine cadence, "we seem to have a bit of a discipline problem. I assure you that this will be handled forthwith. All four houses -"

"Five houses!" Harry shouted in response, standing earnest and forthright as ever. And again he caught himself and sat back down.

"Right," he said. "Don't know what that's all about. I just have the urge to stand up for truth and justice anytime she opens her foul mouth."

"Hem hem. All _four_ houses -" Umbridge continued, "will come to understand that this is an institution of learning, and as such, mischief, mayhem, antics and the like can simply not be tolerated. Mr. Malfoy will once again - where is Mr. Malfoy?"

"He was eaten over the summer, Headmistress," Luna said. "We were practicing our Animagus forms, and Michael Corner the hawk ate Draco Malfoy the ferret. It was completely accidental, I promise."

Umbridge shook her head. "Are you on drugs, Miss Lovegood?" she asked.

"Well, of course," Luna replied. "But that doesn't change the fact that Draco's been eaten."

Umbridge pondered this for a moment, and then shook her head. "No matter. I will find another fine Slytherin to head my Never Overlook Foul, Unholy Nookie patrol. Miss Granger, Miss Weasley? I have my eye on you."

"That's just because you like to watch, you sick freak!" It was Harry, again, standing on the Pottermore bench this time. Neville pulled him down to allow him to retain some of his dignity.

"And with my first act as Headmistress, I hereby declare that House Pottermore is disbanded and forbidden!" As she said this, she waved her wand in the direction of Pottermore House, and nothing happened.

"Um, Delores?" Remus said, as quietly as he could manage. "You really can't do that. The Sorting Hat has already sent some first years there, so -"

"Silence, fool!" Umbridge shouted, malevolently. "I am Headmistress of Hogwarts. The Hat and the Castle will eventually bow to my every whim. I will see to that. Now, children," she continued, switching to her maddeningly sweet tone, "please enjoy your lunch."

There was an uproarious uproar at the Pottermore table after Umbridge had finished her speech. There were several "Oh, we're fucked now" and "Got us by the short hairs, she does" heard. Harry let this go for a moment or two before the din began to give him a headache.

"Everybody just chill the fuck out. I got this," he said, and everybody did.

"Now then. Since June, we've taken down Dumbledore, the Wizengamot and most of the Death Eaters. Do you really think we're going to have trouble with some mid-level bureaucrat who probably got her job by...? Ew. Just ew. No, no, no I am not going to think about that. OK, everyone go to class now. Right now. Go! Oh God. My brain..."

* * *

6th year Pottermore students had Potions right after lunch that day, and Professor Snape was in a particularly good mood. Even though Umbridge was a loathsome bint with the scruples of a warthog and only half the beauty, her presence would make Potter's time at school a living hell. Being in such a good mood, he decided not to remove Felix Felices from the sixth year curriculum. And, like clockwork, when he asked the class what the potion was and what its base component was, the first hand that went up belonged to one Hermione Granger.

"Miss Granger," Severus said, grimacing at each syllable as if it were a particularly awful Every Flavor Bean, "why is it that although for five years I have never called on you first to answer a question, you insist on flinging your hand into the air nearly as soon as a question has left my mouth?"

"It's for the other students' benefit, Professor," the sixth-year former Gryffindor replied.

"Oh, this should be rich," Severus said, with a sneer. "Please, do explain."

"They on my tracks," Hermione answered calmly, watching the professor's sneer turn from contemptuous to loathing, "waitin' on the next train of thought. Visualizin' how the crown might be; got the whole Hogwarts game tryna sound like me."

"Two hundred fifty THOUSAND points from - Pottermore!"

Hannah, who was sitting in front of Hermione, turned around to give her a respectful nod of the head. Neville, who was sitting right next to her, bumped fists with his housemate, and then reached under the table to slap hands with Ginny.

"CONSIDER THAT A WARNING," a voice called from above. "NEXT TIME SHE'LL DO AN ENTIRE VERSE."

The classroom gasped, while Severus simply looked a little more perturbed than usual.

"Potter?" he asked, not bothering to find out who was the force behind the ruckus. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Oh, that?" Harry answered. "That's just the fourth wall. There's a bit of a crack, is all. Don't mind it - I don't think it'll bother us again. Hold up a sec though, teach. Lemme just fix this for good."

Harry stood up and pointed his wand to the ceiling.

"Shutthehellupius Authori!" he called, and the authors would be heard from no more.

* * *

The party in the Pottermore Yacht's main cabin was a bit more subdued than usual that night. DJ Loopy Lupin was spinning nothing but Smiths and Joy Division tracks, while the assembled students drank themselves legless on firewhiskey and self-doubt. Tonks was visiting her parents, so it was nothing but students in the VIP section of the cabin: just the Trio, Neville and his girls, and Dean, who was busy making out with Ron in the corner.

"I really don't like this, Harry," Hermione said. "Maybe we should just leave. I have a very, very bad feeling about this. That woman is dangerous, and I think she has even fewer qualms about causing you pain than Dumbledore did."

"Don't stress, Hermione. Really, I'm on it. Where's Ginny, by the way?"

Hermione chuckled a bit before answering. "Oh, she's... Well, she's a bit tied up at present. Quite a bit, actually. That Japanese Shibari bondage is frightfully ornate and difficult, but once you have the hang of it, my goodness. Ginny does look delicious with all of those knots suspended from the ceiling. Mmm. But - but don't get me off track, Harry. Focus. We're in real danger here."

"Oh, come on, Hermione. It's Umbridge. Didn't we get her canned last year, even before that block on my magic was removed? What's the worst that can happen?"

The music stopped suddenly, and every head in the cabin turned to look at Harry.

"What?" he asked.

"Seriously?" Hermione challenged him. "You seriously just said 'What's the worst that can happen?' Besides the atrocious grammar, that is the single worst thing anyone can ask ever about anything. Have you never watched a movie in your entire life, Harry Potter? Have you? Honestly. 'What's the worst that could happen,' indeed."

What mood there was had been pretty much killed by Harry's ill-timed bravado, and most of the house staggered back to their berthings. Neville clasped Harry in a one-arm hug, telling him "I got your back, G. Don't you forget it." Hermione kissed his cheek fondly and told him pretty much the same. Harry sat for a few moments in silence, looking at the cabin that Tilly and Clyde would have clean by morning. Was Hermione right? Did they have cause to fear Umbridge? Harry took a walk through the cabin quietly, grabbed a bottle of firewhiskey for his cabin, and decided to call it a night.

"Um, fellas?" he called to Ron and Dean, who had been blissfully oblivious to the goings-on. "I'm hitting the hay. You might want to find a room."

* * *

The next morning, Harry woke with a terrible hangover. "Milly?" he called. There was no answer. "Tilly? Vanilli? Clyde? Someone? I'm in a lot of pain here; could really use a hangover potion!"

Still there was no answer. He threw the covers off and opened the curtain to his bed only to find that he was no longer on the boat. He was in the sixth-year Gryffindor dormitory. Furthermore, the Pottermore crest on his cloak had been changed back to Gryffindor. He reached for his glasses on the nightstand and took a look around. There was Ron and Dean, in two separate beds. There was Neville, alone. Seamus also. This wasn't good. His glasses slipped down his nose, and it was there that he discovered the greatest and most foul of the indignities that had been forced upon him. His myopia had returned.

Harry sank to his knees, looked up, balled his fists and shook them at the heavens.

"No!" he cried. "Noooooo!"


End file.
